Running Silent:

Offers that Can't Be Refused

…

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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"Liara, I'd like you to check out this strange message I received," Shepard said, speaking to the asari across the QEC. "I've just forwarded it to you."

Commander Shepard,

I have an offer you won't want to refuse. Something essential for your war. Meet me at the attached coordinates at midday in one solar week, and come alone.

"Suspicious, right?" Shepard asked, after giving her friend a moment to read. "And whoever this is must know I would never just go there alone."

"I'll learn what I can, Shepard," Liara said, frowning. "I don't like the sound of this."

"But what if they're right?" Shepard pressed. "I don't want to turn down aid, no matter who it's from."

"Let me investigate," Liara insisted. "Before you do something rash."

"Me? Rash?" Shepard asked, but all Liara did was roll her eyes.

…

With mere weeks before the summit, Shepard spent her free time studying reaper tactics with EDI in between missions.

"They are focused on the homeworlds almost exclusively, Shepard," the AI told her again. "There are no reports of colony worlds being hit with a direct reaper assault, only of roving bands of reaper creatures. It seems that destabilization of government may be one motive."

"But they haven't gone after the Citadel this time."

"They have not," EDI confirmed. "There is no reaper activity recorded in the Widow Nebula."

Shepard shook her head. "It doesn't make sense for them to be gun-shy after three years ago. One reaper almost took over the Citadel alone. Maybe they don't think it's a worthwhile target? The Protheans had one central government, as far as we know. We're much more divided."

"I cannot assess their motives at this time," EDI simply replied.

Shepard studied the map in front of her, pacing as she frowned at it. "How are our evacuation efforts going?"

"Reports suggest that only one in four escape ships or shuttles survive. Those that do survive are statistically more likely to have left from a rural area or smaller population center."

"So stay out of the cities," Shepard said and sighed. "And get stealth drives. What else?"

"Reapers seem to be disrupting travel and trade as much as possible, particularly to and from each homeworld. Harbinger has been sighted in a number of different systems, possibly overseeing the reaper forces. As theorized, he seems to be the leader."

"And probably still on the lookout for us," Shepard added, and fell silent. She stared at the map of the galaxy, home systems ringed in red, and she willed herself to come up with a plan. So far, all she could think of were things that would slow them down. They needed something new, something no one would think of—something the reapers wouldn't expect.

All of those red-ringed systems were counting on her.

…

Since departing from Cerberus, Shepard and her team had been running weekly hand-to-hand drills for the Normandy crew, and they'd been making some promising progress, especially knowing that most of these people had never been fighters. Shepard finally felt like they had the basics down, and were ready to learn some specifics that could be useful.

"It's important to understand the physiology of different species," Shepard explained, standing in front of the crew in the docking bay. "For example, a kick to the groin will temporarily disable a human male, but would have little effect on a turian male due to the sex organs being internal until arousal."

Garrus, standing next to her, noticed the eyes of several crewmen going straight to his groin, and a few gazing back and forth between him and Shepard with a look of confusion. He glanced at Shepard, who seemed utterly unfazed. He felt the heat rising on his neck and hoped none of them knew what a blushing turian looked like.

"Instead of the groin, go for the stomach. It's one of the least armored parts of a turian's body," she continued, though it seemed few had gotten past the thought of internal male sex organs. "Another example," she said smoothly, "Is the classic jab to the eyes. This would be ineffective on a batarian unless you were able to incapacitate all four eyes at one time. They also defend their eyes more carefully than any other organ, as they believe the soul leaves through the eyes when they die."

Due to the distracted looks of the crew, Garrus guessed that there would be a lot of extranet searching and Fornax sharing that night. Shepard might have to repeat this lesson—minus the bit about turian anatomy.

Shepard listed most species she expected they might meet, talking through moves that would work and ones that wouldn't for each specific species. At the end, one crewman raised his hand.

"What if we run into a pistol-wielding hanar?" Some muffled laughter was heard throughout the room.

Shepard quirked a brow. "Ask for his autograph."

…

Shepard stepped out of the elevator and turned towards the lounge, rolling a sore shoulder as she waited for the doors to open. She intended to grab a drink from the bar, but was instead distracted by her pilot, shuttle pilot, and two other crewmen milling about the room. She smiled at the sight of them. "Hey guys," she greeted, moving towards the bar where Crewman Lindall stood. "What's going on?" She turned and leaned against the bar, giving Lindall a nod as he motioned towards a bottle of whiskey.

O'Connor grinned at her from his spot on the couch, fingers typing away at his omni-tool. "Movie night." He typed in one more command, and a vid-screen flickered to life showing a very old—and very familiar—title emblazoned across it. "Star Wars," he confirmed.

Shepard grinned back at him. "Originals, prequels, sequels?" she teased. "Special editions? Super-special editions? Bicentennial release?"

O'Connor gave her a scandalized look. "You shouldn't have to ask."

She raised her hands defensively. "Not all of us are sci-fi purists, you know." She glanced aside to the bar and picked up the drink Lindall had poured for her. She took a sip and looked at her shuttle pilot speculatively. "Mind if I invite a few more people to your party?" she asked.

Within an hour, nearly half of the crew was crammed into starboard observation, forced to cross the hall when the lounge got too crowded. Voices layered over each other, a dozen conversations occurring at once.

"Is there a romance? Is it as good as Fleet and Flotilla?"

"Princess Leia was my first crush, swear to God. That gold bikini? Damn!"

"Make mine a double, will ya?"

"We're gonna need a gag or else this asshole is going to quote along with the whole fucking movie."

"POPCORN!" Rupert bellowed from the doorway. "Who wants popcorn? Buttered or caramel? Shut up, I'm trying to take orders here!"

Shepard smiled at the sight of the crew, humans and aliens alike chatting and discussing the movie they were about to see. It seemed like nearly everyone who was off duty was present. Even Miranda had set aside her paperwork to join the fun.

Shepard glanced to her side as she felt a nudge, and smiled.

"So I hear this is one of those all-time human classics," Garrus drawled. "I think O'Connor's message said 'best movie ever'?"

Shepard let out a laugh. "I don't know about best ever," she qualified. "But it's definitely a classic."

She led Garrus to a seat on one of the couches, settling herself in beside him. Normally they kept displays of affection to a minimum around the crew in order to keep up the image of professionalism, but in this casual environment they didn't worry. His arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her in to rest her head in the crook between his cowl and shoulder. She rested a hand on his leg, pleased that he wasn't wearing his armor.

Shepard smiled to herself as she let the conversations roll over her in waves of talk and laughter. She felt a little bit of her stress ease as she listened to her crew forgetting about the reapers if only for a few moments.

"Hey, assholes, shut up! O'Connor is starting the movie!"

At that, Shepard opened her eyes and straightened in her seat, smiling to herself as the title came up on the screen.

As the scrolling text followed, someone threw a handful of popcorn. "Why do I have to read? It's a movie!"

"Hey!" Shepard yelled. "Whoever throws popcorn picks it up themselves."

A feminine dual-toned voice piped up. "Uh, can we get a translation for the non-humans in here?"

The movie continued with a flurry of popcorn throwing and amused comments.

"Why are the effects so shitty?"

"Are all the aliens just guys in suits?"

"Why couldn't she just send Obi-Wan a vid-mail?"

"Those storm troopers are terrible soldiers. Who trained them to shoot?" That one was Garrus, which got him an elbow in the side.

"Did your people really use this kind of tech to travel in space? It's so primitive!"

"When are we going to watch the next one? Does she get with Luke or Han?"

When the credits finally rolled, it was getting late. Shepard stretched and yawned as she got out of her seat. "Same time next week," she called, catching the crowd before they left. "We can watch the next one."

Crewmen filtered out slowly, but Shepard stayed to make sure the mess got cleaned up.

"What a goddamn waste," Rupert grumbled, surveying the popcorn scattered across the observation room floor. "All the work I do for you…"

When she was satisfied that the responsible parties had taken care of their mess, Shepard headed up to her quarters with Garrus, falling asleep to dreams of lightsabers and epic space battles. A night of carefree fun was exactly what she had needed. In the morning she would think of reapers, but for now, she would relax.

…

"I cannot verify anything about this message, Shepard," Liara said, as soon as she appeared in the QEC. "It may be a trap for you. If they want to help, why the secrecy?"

"If they want to kill me, why such an obvious trap?" Shepard countered. "Maybe they're going against someone powerful. Maybe they're in hiding," she suggested. "Do you really think they're going to all this trouble to kill me?"

Liara's brow furrowed in worry. "There are some who would. I cannot rule it out."

Shepard crossed her arms, leaning back on a heel. "But you can't rule out that they might be honest, either."

"It does not seem likely," Liara argued.

"If I have backup…"

"Shepard…" She looked on her friend with sorrowful eyes. "I know you cannot be talked out of anything you set your mind to. But please," she begged. "Be careful." And she cut the connection.

…

Garrus stared down from his sniper's perch, hating every moment. He was very nearly furious at the love of his life, who would always put herself in danger if she thought it might help someone else.

"Shepard, this place is an assassin's dream," he growled. "I can see at least three additional sniper's nests from this position, not to mention the blind spots. And do you have any idea how easy those side passages make it to flank you?"

"That's why I have you watching my six," she said disarmingly. "And why I have EDI monitoring the audio frequencies and Tali hacked into all the building's systems. It's why I have Kasumi and Jacob watching the entrances and am wearing this behemoth of a kinetic shield that Solana cooked up." Her voice was relaxed. "We've got it covered, Garrus."

That isn't enough, he wanted to say. Instead, he gave a resigned sigh. "You know, it's hard to protect you when you enjoy being cowl-deep in trouble." There was a breathy laugh in his comm.

He knew, logically, that she was an excellent tactician. The moment she walked into that space she would immediately take account of every entrance and exit, evaluate all possible cover for herself and any attackers, and formulate contingency plans. He knew that, and yet…

She was Shepard. No protection would ever be enough.

"Entering the hangar," she said. He heard the clang of the door and softly echoing footsteps.

A moment later he saw her below, small within the cavernous space. A look through his scope revealed the tight line of tension in her shoulders and the flexing fists, resisting the urge to reach for her gun.

"I have you in my sights, Shepard." He paused. "Hell of a view."

"Garrus!" she hissed. He chuckled quietly, picturing the smile and blush he knew would accompany her words. Another glimpse through his scope. Her hands hung relaxed now. No more fists.

She paced as the seconds ticked by, but Garrus sat still, vigilant and patient. If there was one thing a sniper knew how to do, it was wait.

He tensed at the swing of the far door, targeting his scope on a helmeted figure.

"I'm hurt at your lack of trust in me," the figure said, his deep voice modulated and unnatural. "Hacked security? Cloaked guards? I gave you my word, Commander."

"Trust is earned," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "Would you like to tell me what this is all about?"

He chuckled. "All in due time, Commander. All in due time." He stopped, a few yards in front of her. "I have an offer, Commander, one you will not wish to refuse."

"So your note said," she replied. "Am I going to hear the details of this offer or just be told that I should accept it?"

"Very well," the man said, sounding amused. "I represent a secret organization. We would like to be of aid to you, but our involvement must remain entirely unknown."

"And why is that?" Shepard asked, her voice tight.

The man reached up and unlatched his helmet, lifting it off of his head. Garrus felt him mandibles tighten. The man under the helmet was batarian.

A moment later, every door locked down and his comms went to static.

…

A/N: When I started writing this story, the Star Wars sequels were only a twinkle in Bob Iger's eye…