Running Silent:

Return to Sender

…

An alternate ME3. Commander Shepard and her team are on the run from Cerberus and trying to make alliances before it's too late. In a galaxy with no reaper kill switch, how can they hope to defeat something so ancient and powerful? Their last hope is a desperate plan that may cost them everything. Shepard/Garrus, other side pairings.

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Disclaimer: This author in no way profits from the writing of this story. All characters, dialogue, or other referenced material from the Mass Effect trilogy belong to Bioware.

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Shepard stared at her terminal in confusion.

Tali's message was long and mundane, telling Shepard the upgrades she'd made to the Neema, things she'd talked about with her friends, random gossip from the flotilla. Nothing of substance. Nothing about the task Shepard had set before her upon sending her to the Migrant Fleet. But the last paragraph was the strangest of all.

Do you remember that time on the SR-1 when you came back from a Cerberus outpost with enough pink and white armor to outfit the whole team? No one wanted to wear it, but you told me the armor was the key to mutual understanding. Looking closely, I can see that that's true.

"What the hell…" Shepard murmured, brows knit together in a puzzled frown. None of this made any sense at all.

EDI spoke up. "Shepard, if I may…" The AI seemed to hesitate, waiting for Shepard's permission to continue.

She sighed and glanced up at the comm unit. "Yes, EDI?"

"I have analyzed Tali'Zorah's message, and there seems to be something embedded in the code. I believe it is another message."

Shepard's frown deepened. "Can you decrypt it?"

"It requires a keyword. I am currently scanning through common words in Tali's native dialect to find a term that fits. No matches so far," she told Shepard. "It may take some time."

Tali must have given some clue. Shepard stared at that last paragraph and it dawned on her. EDI wouldn't find it, of course, because there was no word for it in Tali's language. "Phoenix," she stated confidently. "The word is phoenix."

…

Over the top of the datapad, Garrus could see Shepard watching him and waiting for his reaction. He stared at it for a moment after he finished reading, collecting his thoughts before setting it down.

"Thoughts?" she questioned, blue eyes serious.

Tali's message was trouble. Garrus hated the quarian admirals. Already an older brother, he'd taken on Tali as a surrogate sister almost by nature, and those admirals had hurt her badly. They'd used her for their own ends even after she gave the Migrant Fleet everything she had. She still gave the Fleet everything she had, and those admirals were too stupid to hear a word of her advice.

"We have to do something," he said, letting his emotions get the better of him for a moment. He took a deep breath, calming himself and considering it tactically. "The quarians have the largest fleet of warships," he reminded Shepard, "We can't let them destroy themselves on the geth, not when we're going to need those ships later."

"According to Legion, the geth fleet is even larger," Shepard added. "The quarians don't stand a chance, and frankly, we need both fleets to fight the reapers. We can't piss anyone off enough to make them refuse us when the reapers come."

Garrus raised a browplate. "I don't think anyone will be turning you away when the reapers come," he said dryly.

She shrugged, leaning back in her seat. "When people are scared, they get stupid. We have no way of knowing how they'll react."

"All of this is a moot point," Garrus countered. "We can't dock the Normandy."

"And I can't come aboard, being a fugitive and all," she added. "Quarians may not be Council, but they still won't welcome me." She was looking at him thoughtfully, appraisingly. Garrus wasn't sure what she was up to, but he was getting the sneaking feeling that he wouldn't like it.

"I can't go to the Migrant Fleet," she reiterated, "But you can."

Garrus felt his mandibles go slack. "You can't possibly be thinking of sending me without you." Shepard was the diplomat, not him. And, spirits, he didn't want to leave her side. Not now, not ever again.

She looked at him calmly. "I trust your judgment, Garrus." She could see right through him to all the misgivings he felt about going, and she didn't give a damn.

"Shepard," he protested, a bit desperately, "This is too big for that."

"No," she disagreed, her voice firm and deliberate. She looked at him steadily. "I trust your judgment, Garrus."

When his wide-eyed stare didn't let up, she gave him a playful grin. "Besides," she told him. "It's not like I would send you in without backup."

…

Garrus shifted nervously as the shuttle docked. He still didn't think sending him was the right decision. What did Shepard expect him to do anyways?

"You'll be fine, Garrus," she had insisted. "Figure out what the situation is and call me tonight."

It was a relief that he wouldn't have to figure everything out on his own, but when it came down to it, he was the one who had to act. He was the one who had to find the right words to say or people to talk to. He was the one who had to choose when to use diplomacy or when to use a gun. Omega had been so much simpler than this. Shit, Palaven and his dad had been simpler than this.

"Garrus!"

He looked up and saw a familiar figure running towards him. When Tali'Zorah vas Normandy reached the end of the hallway, she threw herself upon him in an uncharacteristic hug.

"If you're this happy to see me, the situation must be worse than I thought," he drawled as she finally pulled away. That earned him a whack on the arm, which made him feel much better. There was the Tali he knew.

She motioned for him to follow, and she led him to a private room. "Guest quarters," she indicated. "Bug free. I cleared the room myself."

With that, she dropped onto the edge of the bed, her posture sagging as she rested her helmet in her hands. She looked up at him from where she sat. "Oh, Garrus," she groaned. "It is bad."

Garrus was worried—about Tali and about the fleet—but he spoke in his calmest voice, the one he used to get scared witnesses to talk back in his C-Sec days. "Start at the beginning, Tali," he instructed. "And tell me everything that's happened."

She shared her story of coming onto the Flotilla to the news of war, of her fruitless meeting with the admirals and her talks with Zaal'Koris. She told him everything they'd come up with, but Tali didn't seem to have much hope for the situation. And more than that, her voice and body language were telling another story—of the failure she felt at not being able to do this herself. She thought she'd let herself down and let Shepard down, though she didn't dare say as much outright.

I wish Shepard was here, Garrus thought miserably.

She would have known how to handle Tali. She would have known the right things to say. And she probably would have simply yelled the admirals into submission.

Garrus wasn't big on public speaking, so he'd probably have to give up that angle.

"Start small," Shepard's voice said in his head.

He moved to sit beside the young quarian and put a hand on her shoulder. "See if you can schedule another meeting with Admiral Koris," he told her. "The three of us will talk it out and see what we can come up with."

"Thanks, Garrus," Tali said quietly.

He squeezed her shoulder. "We'll get through this, Tali. Don't worry."

"Don't worry" was always a little hypocritical coming from him, but it felt like the right thing to say. Tali's stance seemed just a little less tense as she left the room.

"Some people need a hug and some need a headbutt," Shepard's voice reminded him.

Tali was of the first sort, and though Garrus wasn't much of a hugger, he'd do his best to keep his friend afloat.

…

The door to Garrus's guest room opened and closed apparently of its own accord, but Garrus wasn't unsettled by it. He only had to wait a moment before a figure materialized in front of him, one that might pass for a quarian at first glance, although she didn't quite have the hips to pull off the suit.

Kasumi tapped the opaque glass of her helmet and the glass turned transparent. "So I learned some interesting things today," she said, a trademark smirk curling the corners of her painted lips.

"What have you got for me?" Garrus asked. He had conflicting feelings about Kasumi. She was a thief and didn't deny it, but she rarely seemed to steal from those who didn't have more than their share of wealth. She'd told him the story of Robin Hood once, an old tale of a human who had stolen from the rich and given to the poor. When he asked her if Robin Hood also collected priceless art and artifacts for his own benefit, she'd just laughed and disappeared.

Garrus was sure there was more to her than met the eye, but she never let anyone see below the surface. Shepard might know—she seemed to know the thief better than anyone—but their commander never revealed her crew's secrets.

Kasumi had taken to looking about the room, picking up objects and examining them. "Well," she finally said, fluffing the pillows on the bed, "I learned that not everyone is as eager for war as the admirals would like us to believe."

Intrigued, Garrus leaned forward. "What do you mean?"

She checked her appearance in the mirror. "Behind closed doors, people are talking. No one seems to realize that they aren't alone in disagreeing with this war. Some of the captains, especially those in the civilian fleet, seem worried."

The gears were turning in Garrus's head. He might be able to work with this. "Thanks, Kasumi," he responded gratefully. "Keep up the good work."

"I'll keep up the good work tomorrow," she told him. "Right now I want to sleep." She looked at him slyly.

Garrus gave her an odd look. "What?"

The corner of Kasumi's mouth twitched. "You're used to sharing a bed with a human, so this won't be a problem, right?"

Garrus glanced from Kasumi to the bed and then to the rest of the room, designed for a single occupant. They hadn't made arrangements for Kasumi's lodging—she had been cloaked and intended to stay that way. When he looked back up at the thief, she had a full-blown smirk on her face.

Garrus grumbled, getting up to grab a pillow from the bed. "I'll take the floor."

Kasumi pouted. "You're no fun at all."

…

Tali was quieter than usual as she led Garrus and—unknowingly—a cloaked Kasumi to the office of Admiral Zaal'Koris. Garrus was quiet too, but that was hardly unusual. He'd been thinking about what he discussed with Tali and with Kasumi, brainstorming ways to end this war before it started. He and Shepard had discussed it briefly, but neither of them had much time to chat that first night.

He wanted to get this dealt with as quickly as possible. Not just to avoid the war, but also because he didn't like being away from Shepard, especially after the Aratoht mission. She was still struggling to come to terms with it, and he wanted to be there for her. With that in mind, he followed Tali into the admiral's office with a few flimsy ideas and a sense of urgency.

"Admiral," he greeted deferentially.

"Vakarian," the admiral said in kind. "I'm told you're here to help with our problem." He motioned Garrus and Tali to the chairs across the desk from him.

"I'll do what I can," Garrus responded, but he had his doubts. Shepard had the pull of a Spectre and hero when she had been there, but what did he have to fall back upon? He was nobody to these quarians. He had the same evidence Tali had brought and far less trust.

Zaal'Koris folded his hands and looked at Garrus. "I hope you have a plan," he said haughtily. It was obvious that he felt the same doubts that Garrus did himself.

Annoyance rose up within Garrus, becoming determined to prove the admiral wrong. "I have a couple of ideas to discuss," he told them, pulling out the authoritative tone of the C-Sec officer and vigilante leader he'd once been. "And some information I think you'll both be interested in."

Tali tilted her helmet curiously—Garrus hadn't shared anything with her the night before. He hadn't, of course, heard Kasumi's report yet when he talked to her. It had been as he lay awake into the night cycle that all of his ideas had slowly come to take nebulous form inside his mind.

"I have it on good authority that there is much more dissent among the captains and crews than you know. The idea of war hasn't been as well-received as you've been led to believe."

Koris objected to this. "If the captains were in doubt, I would know," he argued. "Where did you get your information?"

"I can't tell you that," Garrus replied. "But I have names. My suggestion is to start talking to these captains. Sow the seeds of doubt and have them do the same with those they know. If the people are against this war—if the captains are against it—it will make it that much harder for the admiralty board to push their agenda."

Koris shifted in his seat, seemingly unable to find a point of objection. "I want those names," he said finally.

Garrus inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. "You'll have them," he affirmed. "I'd also like a meeting with the rest of the admirals if you can get me one. I can corroborate Tali's evidence about the reapers. If they become aware that my government is taking action to prepare, that might be more convincing."

Tali shook her head. "The admirals who really want war, Gerrel and Jorah, won't be stopped by the idea of reapers. They're already using the idea to argue that we need to take out the geth before the reapers get here."

Garrus was silent for a moment, considering the other idea in his mind, one that could work or backfire—an idea that would, one way or another, change everything.

He leaned forward in his seat. "What if we could prove that the geth don't want to fight you?"

Tali and Admiral Koris shared a look.

…