Running Silent:

Death by Diplomacy

…

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.

…

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.

…

Shepard leaned back from her terminal and rubbed her eyes tiredly. "EDI, is Miranda back on board?" It was late, but she would wait up until Miranda had escorted her sister's family to a safe house. They needed to have a talk, and she wasn't going to wait until morning.

"Not yet, Commander," was the reply.

"Tell her to see me when she returns," Shepard instructed with a yawn.

"Yes, Commander."

Silence fell upon the room again. Shepard glanced at her terminal and shut it down. No more work tonight. She pushed the chair away from the desk and stood, moving down to the lower part of her quarters. She stretched out on the couch and ran her fingers through her short, red hair with a sigh.

Her mind drifted to the conversation she'd had with Liara earlier, first about finding a safe placement for Oriana's family and then about other things, such as Miranda's deception. Liara's reaction had been eye-opening.

"Maybe you will listen next time when I tell you I have something important to talk about," Liara said sharply. Her expression turned horrified. "Shepard," she breathed apologetically, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't speak to you that way." Her head dropped

"It's okay, Liara," Shepard reassured her. "You're right."

"It's just this job," the asari explained. "And being one of the few people who knows what's coming. It's a nightmare, Shepard."

No one really knows what's coming, Shepard thought bitterly, remembering the beacon. No one but me. Liara received only an echo of it; a faint echo of the pain and suffering, the doom and utter despair. Those visions had become more and more clear as time passed, but she often wished they hadn't. Others on the ship slept, made love, and worked the graveyard shift while she watched a civilization die in her sleep.

It was her gift and curse; to know what awaited them if she failed.

EDI's simulated voice was a welcome interruption to her thoughts. "Miranda has returned and is on her way up, Commander," the AI told her.

"Thank you, EDI," Shepard replied, and hefted herself upright to sit on the couch properly. A few minutes later, she heard Miranda's knock at the door. "Come in," she called.

Shepard was unsurprised to see her XO looking far more careworn than usual. This had weighed heavily on her, Shepard knew, but she couldn't let it go without a discussion. "Come sit with me," she instructed, trying her best to sound gentle.

Miranda came down the steps and settled carefully around the bend of the couch, staring first at her hands before raising her eyes slowly to meet the commander's.

Shepard held her gaze, trying to read the emotions in the other woman's eyes. How far could she trust Miranda? How long before her XO's judgment became compromised again? Could she keep Miranda focused, get her to hold onto the big picture?

Finally, she broke the silence. "Why didn't you come to me, Miranda?"

The brunette's eyes dropped to her hands, twined together in her lap. Her expression was one of guilt. "I—" She let out a huff of air. "I don't know," she admitted. "I was so afraid for Oriana. I didn't know what to do. I was afraid that if we went after her, he would get to her first." There was an unsettling waver in her voice.

"You considered his deal," Shepard said coolly.

Miranda chanced to look back up at the commander. "I don't think I did, not really," she tried to explain. "I knew I couldn't betray you, but Oriana means everything to me." Her blue eyes implored Shepard to be understanding.

The sight of her XO so undone tugged at Shepard's heartstrings, but she knew her first duty was to the safety of her crew—and to her mission. "It would have been safer for Oriana if we had dealt with this before Cerberus ever came for the Normandy."

Miranda let out a shaky breath. "I knew better than to betray you," she told her again. "And I didn't want to. I believe in what we're doing here, Commander. But I kept delaying making that decision that would send Cerberus after Ori. I thought about saying something. I almost did, so many times." The brunette shook her head, her voice full of self-reproach. "I guess I just ran out of time."

"What exactly did he ask you to do?"

Miranda flushed slightly, looking ashamed. "He wanted me to shut down EDI."

Shepard nodded slightly as realization dawned. EDI had prevented Cerberus from taking the Normandy before. It made sense that they would want her out of the way. Shepard would have to be more careful about allowing access to the AI core.

She locked eyes with Miranda. "You'll have to forfeit your access to the AI core," she told her firmly. "I should have restricted access a long time ago."

Miranda's eyes widened slightly. "You're… you're not kicking me off your ship?"

Shepard held Miranda's gaze steadily. "I won't make you leave for a single lapse of judgment," she told her gently. Her voice became firm. "But you can't allow your emotions to compromise the mission again," she ordered. "One lapse is a mistake. Two is a trend. We're doing this for everyone. Letting your emotions get in the way of the mission can only hurt the people you care about."

Miranda gave Shepard a shaky smile. "I'm not used to forgiveness," she admitted.

She wouldn't be, Shepard thought, remembering Miranda's father and the Illusive Man. "You can always come to me, Miranda," she said. "I will always help you, and that's a promise."

She could read in Miranda's expression that the XO really didn't believe she deserved this. But Shepard saw more than that—a determination to never breach her commander's trust again. A vow to do better next time.

Shepard had always believed in second chances.

She smiled at Miranda. "Go get some sleep," she instructed, nodding towards the door. "We can talk more in the morning."

The brunette stood and walked away, but she paused before crossing the threshold. She took a few steps back, standing at the top of the steps. "Shepard…" she began, sounding a bit unsure. "What did you mean when you told Oriana you owed me something you could never repay?"

A small smile graced Shepard's features. "You gave me my life back, Miranda. There's nothing I could ever do for you that would measure up to that."

…

"Admirals," Garrus greeted, exuding a confidence he didn't quite feel as he strode into the meeting room. Admiral Koris entered behind him, followed by Tali'Zorah, who gave Garrus's hand a quick squeeze as she moved past him. Koris went to sit with his fellow admirals while Tali moved off to the side, already pulling up her omni-tool to record the meeting. Somewhere in the room, Kasumi stood cloaked, ready to step in if things got ugly.

Admiral Xen was the first to speak. "Koris tells me that you wish to speak with us regarding our war with the geth," she stated in her haughty way. "Are the turians pledging their aid or threatening to interfere?"

Garrus had one thing to stay in Admiral Xen's favor—she didn't mince words. He hadn't bothered to correct any assumptions about this meeting before, knowing that their belief he was representing the Hierarchy was the main reason he'd been granted this audience. But now, he had no need of deception. "Neither," he answered.

"Then what, exactly, is the purpose of this meeting?" Xen questioned testily.

"I'm here because I'm hoping the war won't be necessary," he told them. "I have someone that wants to speak with you."

Garrus connected the call and patched it through to the large vidscreen on the wall behind him, then braced himself for the inevitable blowback.

Four out of five admirals shot out of their chairs when Legion's image appeared onscreen. "What is the meaning of this?" Admiral Raan gasped, hand pressed to her chest.

"Admirals," Legion greeted in his static, mechanical voice.

Garrus raised his hands against the sudden influx of ringing protests. "Everyone calm down," he shouted over them. An uneasy silence fell. The step forward that Garrus took echoed through the room. "This is Legion, a platform representing the geth consensus," he explained. He took a deep breath. "The geth want to parley."

There was a beat of silence before the shouting started up again.

"That's impossible!"

"What sort of trickery—"

"Honestly, do you expect us to believe…"

"It's true!"

Garrus's head snapped to the source of the newest voice as the admirals fell to silence.

Tali stepped forward and took a deep breath. "The geth don't want to fight us," she affirmed, her voice clear and strong. "Legion can explain and answer your questions." She took a step back and glanced at Garrus, who gave her an encouraging nod. For better or for worse, Tali was a part of this now. She could become a hero of the quarian people or an exile in disgrace. Either way, he was proud of her.

Legion himself was the one who broke the stunned silence. "Creator Tali'Zorah is correct. The geth do not wish to go to war."

"Then explain the geth assault on the Citadel! The attacks in the Attican Traverse!" Admiral Jorah ordered accusingly. The glow of his eyes narrowed behind his helmet.

Legion's head flaps shifted slightly. "Those actions were taken by the heretics, a minority of the geth. The heretics have been dealt with."

Xen spoke up. "This is ridiculous!" she protested. "The geth don't have factions. They rule by consensus." She crossed her arms over her chest like a barrier.

Garrus stepped in again. "Are you certain of that?" he questioned, raising a browplate.

"Of course I am!" she snapped. "We created them, as you recall."

"And you yourselves have confirmed their ability to adapt," Garrus countered. "How much can you really say you know about the geth after three hundred years separated from them? You haven't attempted to make contact."

The admiral's body language was quickly beginning to read as hostile, but Admiral Koris stepped in before Xen had a chance to become combative. "I, for one, want to hear what this geth has to say," he stated smoothly. "I see no harm in speaking to it."

"I've routed the communication in such a way that Legion can't pinpoint our location," Garrus assured them. "You're in no danger speaking with him."

"Fine," Xen said shortly. "If you insist on continuing this farce, I will question it myself." She stepped forward, past the conference table, and lifted her helmet to gaze at the vidscreen.

"Geth," she addressed. "Tell me about these heretics."

Garrus only paid the barest attention to the conversation, focusing instead on watching the admirals. He'd heard Legion's explanations before. He took note of the admirals' body language, the tone of their voices and the wording of their questions, trying to gauge where they each stood on the issue and whether this chat with Legion would change their minds.

Gerrel and Jorah were full of suspicion. Xen seemed determined not to believe a word it said. Koris and Raan were both quiet, only interjecting the occasional question. When they finally seemed to run out of things to say, Garrus ended the call and turned to them, waiting and watching for their reaction.

There was an uneasy silence at first, until Han'Gerrel spoke up. The admiral, leaning against the table, shifted uncomfortably. "We have to consider that this might be a trap." Garrus released his breath in a disappointed sigh.

For the first time since the beginning of the meeting, Tali came forward. "No," she said firmly. "I've met Legion. I helped it eliminate the heretic threat," she told them, her carefully chosen words omitting the choice to rewrite versus destroy. The young quarian took a deep breath and stood tall before the admirals. "I will vouch for Legion."

Shocked silence followed, and Garrus felt a surge of pride. Tali had joined the Normandy crew as barely more than a child, but now she stood on her own so fiercely that he could only be impressed. They'd all grown so much under Shepard's guidance.

After a moment, the arguing began again. Tali glanced over towards Garrus, her frustration palpable. He shared in her annoyance, crossing his arms as he surveyed the room. After being present for Tali's trial, he shouldn't have been surprised at the vitriol with which the admirals argued with one another, and yet he still felt taken aback by the open hostility. These were the chosen representatives of the quarian people?

"Enough!"

Admiral Zaal'Koris stood at the far end of the room, anger flowing off him in waves. He slammed his hands onto the table. "You are admirals of the quarian people," he spat at his fellows. "And should behave as such."

Silence followed for a moment before Admiral Raan cleared her throat. "We should take a vote, then," she suggested in her usual soft tones. For a second, Garrus felt sympathy for the admiral who was always forced to be a mediator in their frequent disputes. She turned to the quarian nearest her. "Admiral Koris, if you would be willing…?"

"Of course, Raan," he agreed, voice softening slightly in response. He gave her a nod, then looked around the room, standing proud and tall before his fellow admirals. "You already know where I stand," he stated, his voice full of the haughtiness that Garrus remembered from Tali's trial. Strange to be allied with him now.

"I believe we must parley with the geth," he continued. "We cannot allow this opportunity to slip through our fingers because of those who prefer bloodshed to peace," he argued, sparing a glance towards Gerrel and Jorah. "Particularly when there is the possible threat of more war on the horizon, I strongly feel that we should look for any alternative to endangering our people." He turned his frank gaze to Tali, his eyes shining clearly through the tinted glass of his helmet. His voice was firm but gentle when he added, "And I have full faith in Tali'Zorah and her assurances that the geth are not hostile."

Garrus couldn't help his mandibles flaring into a small smile as he looked over at Tali, who had straightened, holding herself confidently. He knew what that praise meant to her.

Admiral Jorah spoke up next. "I believe we should continue our preparations for war," he declared, his body language forward and engaged as he leaned against the table. "We know that the geth have attacked recently. We know that they turned on us. We don't know whether this geth is being honest with us or not," he argued. "They are intelligent. Intelligent enough to use trickery if need be. We cannot trust in assurances made by a race that has always threatened us. We need to trust in the strength of the Migrant Fleet."

Xen nodded in agreement. "We cannot be certain that this is not deceit or a fabrication," she concurred. "While I would welcome the opportunity to study a specimen like the one we spoke to, I find no reason to trust it."

Disgust shot through Garrus at the thought of this quarian anywhere near Legion. He and Legion were hardly fast friends, but Legion was nothing if not honest. Garrus was fairly certain the AI's lies were restricted to the words, "No data available." He was disturbed by the thought of Xen salivating over Legion, poking it for responses, and doing tests that would be utterly damning if attempted on an organic species.

The table looked to Han'Gerrel next, but he waved a gloved hand at Admiral Raan, standing tensely across from him. "I…" She wrung her hands slightly. "I believe that we should give the geth a chance." More than one gasp came in response to her words. "If this can get us back on the homeworld without bloodshed, I think it is worth trying." Her body sagged slightly, as if the effort of this speech had been too much. Garrus was glad to see it, but it wasn't enough. One admiral remained, and his opinion was certain.

Gerrel leaned over the table heavily, clearly understanding the weight of his decision, but unwilling to change his mind. "I agree with Xen and Jorah," he said finally. "The quarian people will go to war."

Garrus sensed Tali's distress next to him. "But… Han'Gerrel, you were my father's friend, and I—" Her voice caught and she broke off, simply staring at the admiral from where she stood.

Admiral Gerrel came towards her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "I know, Tali," he said regretfully. "I trust in your honesty," he told her. "Always. But the geth may have been lying to you. This is not a chance we can take."

Tali's posture drooped as the admiral turned back, failure reading in her features. But it wasn't quite over yet. Garrus caught her eye, motioning to her omni-tool. With a start, she realized his meaning, and in moments the vid was in his inbox.

Admirals Xen, Jorah, and Gerrel were now in quiet discussion while Raan and Koris looked on in defeat. When Garrus saw the light flash on Admiral Koris's omni-tool, indicating a received message, he took a deep breath and stepped forward.

He held himself with all the authority and confidence he could muster. He was Officer Vakarian, Archangel, reaper advisor to the primarch of Palaven and deputy commander of the Normandy. He could do this.

"It's unfortunate that it has come to this," he stated, heart pounding as he turned a hard gaze on each admiral in turn. "If you choose to go to war, I can't stop you. However, Admiral Koris, Tali'Zorah, and I are all in possession of a recording of this meeting." He paused for a moment to allow that to sink in. "And I understand that Admiral Koris will not hesitate to release it if necessary."

There was a cry of outrage.

"Do you presume to blackmail—"

"Is that a threat, sir?"

"Koris, if you betray this council…"

Garrus simply watched for a moment, surveying the arguing admirals once again. What happened now was up to the quarians.

He turned to the other quarian in the room, taking in her nervous stance and agitated eyes moving behind her helmet. "Come on, Tali'Zorah vas Normandy," he said to her. "It's time to go home."

When he marched out of the room, he trusted her to follow.

…

"Keelah," Tali breathed as they made their way through the ship. "I can't believe we just blackmailed the admiralty board."

"You might not want to say that out loud," Garrus said dryly. "Get your things together. We ought to leave as soon as possible."

"Right." Tali turned towards the singles quarters. "Just wait outside," she instructed him. "I'll only take a minute." She slipped through the door and headed to her bunk. At this time of day it was nearly empty. The bunks for the night shift crew were grouped together on the far side of the barracks, but otherwise only a few quarians milled through the room.

She made her way quickly to her locker, stuffing her few possessions into a bag.

"Leaving already, Tali'Zorah?"

Her stomach fluttered at that familiar voice.

Tali turned and beamed at him. She wished he could see it. "Kal'Reegar." She glanced down at the bag in her hands, fidgeting slightly. "I have to return to the Normandy right away," she told him, apology seeping into her tone. "Shepard asked me to be chief engineer."

"I see. Congratulations," he said hesitantly. He shifted his weight slightly, looking uncomfortable. "Vakarian seems like a good guy."

Tali was taken off guard by the sudden change in topic. "He's been a good friend to me," she said cautiously. She felt like she was treading blindly through a minefield, though she wasn't quite sure of the reason for it.

"Reegar, I…" Tali sighed, wishing she had time to puzzle this out. "I have to hurry." She put a tentative hand on his arm. "Write me?"

His eyes glowed at her through his helmet. "Of course, Tali," he said, his tone now warm. It sent shivers up from her belly.

For a moment she just stood there, hand on his arm and gaze lost in the beautiful glow of his eyes. "I'll miss you," she said spontaneously and pulled him into a brief but tight hug. Before she could think on her actions, she hurried away, heart racing.

When the door shut behind her, she let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. Though she couldn't see Garrus's expression through his helmet visor, she knew he was giving her a look. "So…" he drawled as they began their walk to the docking bay. "Run into some surprise combat in the barracks? Not sure why else your heart rate would skyrocket like that."

Tali stopped in her tracks and turned to look at him. She knew that posture—it was always accompanied by a smirk. "Bosh'tet," she muttered, and he laughed all the way down the hall.

…

When they boarded the Normandy, Tali made a beeline for engineering. Garrus let her go, understanding all too well the need to clear her head with familiar work. Kasumi was still cloaked somewhere, probably headed to the bar for a chance to relax. But Garrus had a different idea in mind for winding down. On the Flotilla, in those moments before sleep he'd been thinking of Shepard, missing her smiles, her arms around him, her alluring scent. In the dark hours while others slept, he fantasized about her.

The only good thing about those nights alone had been the way they heightened his desire for her, making the upcoming reunion all the more sweet. He knew exactly what he wanted to do tonight, but first he needed to stop in the main battery. He dug through a crate of his belongings, searching for a particular item. His hand tightened around it and he pulled his prize from the crate. Smiling involuntarily, He tucked the object into a compartment of his armor and made his way towards the elevator.

Before the door to her quarters closed, she was already upon him. She greeted him with touch—gentle fingers along his gauntlets, soft kisses to his mandibles, hungry, loving eyes. She submitted to his hands as he peeled the fatigues from her body and relished in the flushed glow of her skin. Spirits, he'd longed after her touch, her scent. His plates widened beneath his armor.

Her breath was feather-light upon him as he drew her in close for a human kiss. Those lips—spirits—so soft and pliable. He pressed for entry and she yielded, her tongue waiting for his. They twined together as she moaned breathily into his mouth.

While he held her lips captive to pleasure, he slid a hand along his armor to the hidden compartment. In an instant, he drew her hands behind her and secured them with a click.

Her mouth dropped into an 'o' as she strained against the C-Sec issue handcuffs, eyes wide and staring. Garrus waited for her reaction as his heart raced, hoping she would be more aroused than angry.

The seconds ticked by, and she took a long, slow breath. A slight tremble undermined the steady tone of her voice. "I was wondering if you still had these."

His mandibles widened into a feral grin. Being dominated by a strong woman was a common kink in turian culture, but Garrus thought indulging in the reverse was even better.

She gave a small yelp of protest as he lifted and carried her to the bed, depositing her against the headboard. Her breathing was labored and heart racing, the signals of her desire flagged and magnified by the visor he still wore. He removed the tech and set it on the bedside table. Sometimes instinct was better than data.

He unlatched the rest of his armor as she watched him hungrily, relishing her silent impatience. At long last he removed his undersuit, revealing his body to her. Her breath hitched audibly.

As he climbed onto the bed, hovering above her, he eyed the bra and panties that still hid her most sensitive places. In a snap decision, Garrus ran his talon beneath the delicate fabric between her breasts and ripped. The bra flew open to reveal her heaving breasts, now as familiar to him as they had once been alien. He turned his attention to her panties, ruining them in the same fashion before moving his gaze back to meet hers.

He wondered if he'd gone too far for her yet, but as her eyes moved from the torn lingerie to his blue gaze, she swallowed thickly. "You're going to have to replace those, Vakarian."

The only response he deigned to give her was to lean forward and lick roughly around her hardened nipple. Shepard gasped and arched against him, biting her lip to hold in a moan.

"I don't know," he said with feigned indifference. "I think I prefer you without." And with that, Garrus launched himself upon her.

His fingers rubbed roughly across her opening as he raked his tongue from bellybutton to the hollow of her throat. She moaned at his ministrations, straining against the cuffs that held her back. He lapped at a breast, twirling his tongue around it until she was gasping, but as soon as he sensed she was nearing the edge, his fingers slowed to a steady pace, just enough to tease.

He took a moment just to look. His eyes roved with fond familiarity over her pale skin, the dusting of freckles across her nose and shoulders. The faint lines of her veins so close beneath the skin, a vision of fragility that contrasted with her innate strength. She bruised easily, her body marked with the evidence of battle, of sex and sparring and the firing range. His gaze fell upon her strange human fringe shining red like a Palaven sunset, and then he finally met her eyes. They were a darker blue than his own, like the paint that marked and named him. Palaven, Cipritine, Vakarian.

She met his gaze with her own pleading one. "Christ, Garrus," she uttered, writhing against his hand in a fruitless attempt to bring herself closer. "Please..."

"No."

She let out a small sound of protest as he denied her, and she squirmed again, trying to alleviate the need she felt, the pulsing ache between her legs. He held in a groan at the utter eroticism of seeing her at his mercy.

Garrus was painfully hard. Shepard was beautiful beneath him, her pink body flushed and shimmering with sweat. She trembled with need, her once-hard gaze now on the verge of pleading. But he wouldn't give in, not until he got what he wanted from her.

"Promise me something." He stroked her roughly, just once.

She moaned. "Anything." She lifted her hips against his fingers, but her legs were pinned beneath him. She let out a small groan of frustration. His eyes followed a small bead of sweat rolling slowly down her neck. He longed to lick it off of her.

Garrus snapped his eyes back up to hers. He growled in his throat, voice strained from his own need. "Promise that you won't send me away again."

"Garrus," she began, but he cut her off with a rough stroke. She gasped, eyes slamming shut at the sensation.

He lowered himself down to her, drinking in her scent. His tongue slipped out and lapped at that delectable bead of sweat, following a trail up to her ear. "Promise me, Jane," he rumbled, and she shivered. The moment stretched on and his heart beat in the silence.

"Okay," she whispered.

Within a second, he'd removed his fingers and replaced them with the length of his cock. She cried out as he slammed inside her. Warm. Wet. Tight. They were words that applied, but none were enough to describe the feel of her surrounding him. He pounded her against the mattress, full to burst and barely hanging on. He pinched a nipple between his lip plates, and his tongue flicked forward, barely teasing the tip.

She tightened around him with a cry, and his control shattered. He groaned at the rolling pleasure of release. She was limp and boneless beneath him, breathing raggedly as she lay against the pillows.

When he opened his eyes, he found hers upon them, gazing up with an unusual tenderness.

He lowered himself to press his crest against her forehead, eyes locked on hers and nose breathing in the scent of her skin. "Don't make me leave you again."

They both knew better, that if the mission called for it they would do whatever they had to. But her small nod, that moment of pretending, was enough.

…