"I'm requesting Commander Shepard's assistance for a special assignment," Garrus said to Major Coats. "Specialist Shepard, as well."
Coats's eyes narrowed. He shot Val a quick, hard glance.
She did her best to keep her face neutral. The spectacle of Garrus drawn up to his full height, chin lifted and hands clasped behind him, the very picture of a haughty turian, didn't help.
"Of course," Coats said stiffly. "We're glad to cooperate with our friends in the Hierarchy."
Garrus nodded in one crisp movement.
"Can I inquire as to the nature of this special assignment?" Coats asked warily.
"Afraid not," Garrus said blandly. "That information's on a need-to-know basis."
Val could almost hear Coats' teeth grinding. "You're borrowing my people," he pointed out, through his teeth.
"I'm aware."
The two of them stared at each other for a long moment. A muscle pulsed in the side of Coats' jaw. "Fine," he ground out. "Can I have a word with the staff commander?"
"Sure thing," Garrus said amiably, and pivoted to depart, barely casting a glance at Val as he went. She stiffened as Coats turned a glare hot with frustration on her.
"I told you involving a turian was going to cause trouble," he growled.
"Sir," Val replied, for lack of anything better to say.
He blew out a sigh, bracing both hands on his desk. "This is about that damned artifact you found, isn't it?"
"I can't say, sir," Val said carefully.
Coats' gaze hardened. "Are you taking it with you?"
"Haven't discussed anything of the kind, sir." That much wasn't a lie, at least.
"Well, if you can deal with the thing, good riddance," he muttered. "Go on, get out of here. Keep your eyes open and give me a full and thorough report when you're back, all right?"
"Yes, sir," she said with relief, and left before Coats could call her back.
Garrus, not surprisingly, was lounging against the wall, arms crossed, letting the covert stares of passersby slide off him like water. "Did the good major give you any trouble?"
"No, but he's not happy."
"What a surprise." Garrus pushed off the wall and fell into step beside her, strides long and easy. Val adjusted her own pace to keep up, stretching her legs a little. "Most officers love having their subordinates conscripted without warning."
"So this was your big plan?" she asked skeptically.
His mandibles flared in a grin. "It worked, didn't it?"
"We still need a ship," she reminded him. "I'm also not sure how you got clearance from the Hierarchy to take off like this."
"That's taken care of, too," he said. "Don't worry about the rest of it."
Val frowned, shooting Garrus a dark look. She didn't want to leave her other self with a mess to clean up, and she didn't want to jeopardize Garrus's position, either.
Garrus chuckled. "Officially, I'm investigating a possible survival of Cerberus. That's even partly true. The Hierarchy has an interest in making sure Cerberus doesn't gain any ground."
"I can understand that," Val admitted. Even with the Illusive Man dead, Cerberus had to have a lot of resources and projects unaccounted for. Any of them could still be dangerous.
"Honestly..." Garrus's tone lowered, his subvocals growing rougher. "The Hierarchy's also got a lot of questions about how exactly Cerberus got that powerful. They fielded an army, more or less, and had a substantial complement of cruisers and troop carriers, according to our intelligence. A lot of turians can't believe the Alliance had nothing to do with that."
Val grimaced. "The Illusive Man had his fingers just about everywhere, as far as I could tell. I'm not sure where all the money came from, but he must have had interests in major Alliance contractors."
"I guessed that when the second Normandy showed up," Garrus said dryly. "What's left of them has been in disarray since the end of the war, as far as we can tell. Let's hope they stay that way."
"Agreed." They had more than enough to deal with without Cerberus being involved, as far as Val was concerned.
#
"You're both going?" Mama exclaimed, in a shocked tone that made Val's skin crawl with guilt.
She'd known as soon as they started putting the plan together that this was going to be the hardest part. She was the one with the problem, and Alex was the one best equipped to solve it, so they both had to go, and Val didn't know how her mother was going to react to that. The uncertainty left her feeling unsteady, and her mother's desolate expression made her stomach tighten with worry.
"Sorry, Mama," she said, offering an apologetic smile. "Orders." She had to hope her mother wouldn't see through the lie.
"But both of you? You're not even military, Sasha!"
Alex shrugged with his hands still stuffed in his pockets. "I'm working for the military anyway, so it's more or less the same."
"What am I going to do without you?" Mama demanded, folding her arms. Her mouth turned down, almost pouting. Her lips quivered slightly.
Val had no idea what to say. How was a good-bye like this supposed to go? She shifted her weight from foot to foot and hesitated, her mouth half-open, trying to come up with something suitably reassuring. All her verbal skills seemed to have deserted her. She'd never had to say good-bye to her mother before.
Alex saved her with an impatient noise. "You're going to be fine, Mama. This won't even take that long. We'll be back within a couple of weeks."
Mama sniffed and grabbed Val in a hug that nearly squeezed the air from her lungs. She staggered when Mama let go and grabbed Alex in turn.
"Look after each other!" Mama called, waving frantically as they shouldered their bags and headed for the ship.
Val did her best to smile and wave back, conscious of Alex marching stiffly along at her side. Garrus had gone ahead for last inspections, so she had a few minutes alone with Alex, but he was so resolutely looking away from her that it seemed impossible to breach the bristling silence. She thought about speaking half a dozen times, and second-guessed herself every time, afraid anything she might say would only make things worse. The turian reconnaissance ship Garrus had secured waited for them in the landing zone outside of camp. The ship was nondescript and slightly battered, but, according to Garrus, had near-state-of-the-art stealth technology, and plenty of room for three people. Alex trudged toward it as if he were on his way to a cell. Daunted by his mood, Val held her peace until the ship's airlock cycled. As they stepped into the interior corridor, she settled for saying, "Thanks for not letting on to Mama what's going on."
Alex snorted, glancing around. "Like I'm going to tell her you're not her real daughter."
The words stung enough that Val flinched. She wanted to deny them, but she didn't think she'd get anywhere. Not in Alex's current mood, and not since they'd concluded she'd come from another universe. Instead she said, "If they do have some kind of trans-dimensional technology, and I don't come back—"
Alex looked at her for the first time that day. "Let's not jump the gun, okay?" He ticked off points on his fingers. "First off, chances are there's nothing there. Second, if there is anything there, it's going to be a partially working prototype, at best. Maybe just schematics. We're not going to open up some kind of magic portal and poof you back like in a kids' story. It's going to take a while to get anything operational."
Val took a deep breath, trying to settle her nerves. "Right. Listen, Alex—"
"I know we're stuck here for a while," he interrupted. "That doesn't mean we have to pretend we're really brother and sister."
Val blew out a breath, fed up with his attitude. She snapped, "I haven't done anything to you. What exactly is your problem?"
"Except for lying to me," he fired back.
"I didn't think anyone would believe me, and you didn't—"
He raised his voice, cutting her off. "And because of you, my actual sister is stuck in some alternate dimension somewhere. Or dead. Excuse me if I don't feel like being pals."
The words were like a blast of cold water, cooling her anger. Val opened her mouth and hesitated, unsure what to say. In her silence, Alex turned on his heel and headed down the corridor, stepping into one of the open berths. The hatch slid shut with a snick.
"Alex, I'm sorry," she said, stepping toward the closed hatch and hoping she was speaking loudly enough to be heard.
"Everything okay?" Garrus asked, stepping out of a doorway on the other side of the corridor.
Staring at the closed hatch, she said, "It's fine."
"... Right," Garrus said.
Val turned around, to find Garrus only about arm's-length away, looming tall enough that she had to tilt her head back to look him in the eye, and filling the width of the corridor with his armored bulk. Her heart rate ticked up a notch from the sheer proximity. She put on a smile that felt tight and brittle. "I guess he's chosen that one."
Garrus laughed a little. "Guess so." He scratched at his mandible, and then seemed to realize that he was standing between her and the next hatch, and took a hasty half step back. "Take whichever you'd like."
"Thanks," Val said.
She still had to slip close to him to get through the hatch and drop her duffel. The phantom memory of other times she'd been that close, teasingly, casually, affectionately close, chased her in as the hatch closed behind her. Val took a deep breath to settle herself, but her heart still pounded as if she'd been running a mile.
#
Garrus swore the ship was designed for a crew complement of six. Even so, with the three of them, plus the ghosts of Garrus's affection and Alex's resentment, the ship seemed far too small. Each of them had a cabin to themselves, at least (each with one unoccupied bunk), but the cockpit and engine room were both tiny, and even the exercise space and crew lounge felt cramped with the three of them there.
The first time Val stepped into the galley, she found Garrus already busy preparing his meal, the air rich with the scent of coffee and some turian fruit that Val couldn't remember the name of, but that smelled achingly familiar.
"I made coffee," he said by way of greeting. "You humans live on the stuff, right?"
"Some of us more than others," she said. By the look of the pot, Alex had already grabbed a mug and disappeared back into his cabin. "But thanks."
It proved impossible, somehow, to acquire her own breakfast without bumping into Garrus more than once, and then there he sat, stretching out long legs. There were only two small tables, and it seemed rude to sit at the other one, so Val joined him.
"Shepard wasn't much for morning conversation," he said as she sipped her coffee.
"Mm."
He chuckled. "You're the same, I see."
"Still waking up," she said, which true, if only half the truth. She wished he hadn't brought up John Shepard again, but since he had... "I take it you and he were close?"
Garrus shrugged. "We've been through some bad spots together." He tilted his head and eyed her curiously. "But I guess that's true of you and me, too. Your version of me."
Val swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. "Yeah, that's true."
"Adversity brings people together, isn't that what they say? But we always got along, even before things got heavy. Used to have a little competition to see who could get the most headshots on geth."
"Who won?" Val asked, intrigued.
"Who would you think?" Garrus asked, mandibles flicking out in a grin.
She took another sip. "You? Or, wait..." she added, seeing him look down.
"I'm flattered, but no," Garrus admitted. "Not by much, though." He gave her a thoughtful look. "You're not a sniper."
"No." Chewing the last of her toast, she sat back in her chair. "I'm not a bad shot, but I like to get in close."
Garrus made a clicking noise. "Too easy to hit the target then. No challenge to it. I haven't seen a lot of humans with biotics like yours, though."
Val shrugged. "I get that a lot." She'd always stood out, even though there were few enough human biotics: she had more raw power than most L3s, but with less finesse, and the new implant Cerberus had installed only enhanced her natural tendency. Absently, she rubbed the amp socket at the base of her skull.
"So I guess you didn't have as much in common with the other Garrus Vakarian."
Her heart rate ticked up a notch. Watching the swirling blue interface of Garrus's visor, she said, "I don't know. I always thought we made a good team. Filled in for each other's weaknesses."
She almost held her breath, waiting for his response. Garrus regarded her for another moment before saying, "Hn. Yeah, I could see that."
Val let the breath out, slowly. The conversation turned to other subjects, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she'd given something away.
The next time she entered the galley, Alex sat hunched at a table, scowling at his omni-tool.
It felt awkward to say anything, but even more awkward not to. Val settled for saying a wary, "Hey."
Alex glanced up and just as quickly glanced down, hunching into himself.
Val suppressed a sigh, hesitating. If he were a crew member, she would have plunked herself right down opposite him and taken this opportunity to draw him out. She'd done it before; she'd had plenty of subordinates who weren't exactly open books.
But he wasn't crew, wasn't truly her subordinate. He both was and wasn't her brother. She'd known how to talk to Alex when they were sixteen and twelve, but those conversations were nearly two decades and a universe away. As much as she ached for the connection she'd lost, that old relationship didn't seem much help now.
Deliberately, she walked over to the counter and reached for the coffee pot. "Do you want more coffee?"
Two seconds passed before he replied, terse and low-voiced. "Sure."
She brought a fresh mug over. Alex took it with a wary look. He gulped half of it down, fixing his gaze back on his omni-tool, cast her another hunted look, and then slunk out of his seat and back to his cabin without another word.
Val blew out a breath in irritation and finished the coffee. Let him brew the next pot himself, if he wanted more.
Dinner was an even more awkward affair, the three of them jostling elbows or elaborately moving around each other while they heated up their rations. Garrus attempted to draw Alex into conversation, but he only answered in monosyllables, leaving the talk stilted as he stared into his food. Val excused herself early, to escape the strain, although she hoped, as she left, that the two of them would talk a little more without her there. Maybe Garrus could talk Alex into a more reasonable mood.
After a few hours of sleep and an automated relay jump, restlessness drove Val out of her cabin again. There was only so long she could stand being cooped up in those four plain walls. She'd only been on Terra Nova for a few weeks, but already she missed the fresh air, and the jolt of the ground under her feet as she ran. She even missed her biotics training sessions, somewhat to her surprise. She might not have taken them on voluntarily, but she'd gotten used to having her trainees show up, and seeing them progress. The day or so she'd been away already felt like a week.
Hoping to work out some of the kinks in her muscles and clear her mind, she headed to the exercise room. She stopped short in the doorway, seeing Garrus already there, wearing close-fitting black workout clothes.
"Come on in," he said. "I'm sure we can share."
Val looked dubiously around. It was the largest open area on the ship, no great surprise. Even so, that didn't make it a large space. The turian crew couldn't have had more than two or three people in there at once. Still, she might as well make the best of it. "Mind if I run?" she asked, nodding toward the treadmill.
"Go ahead."
With the help of her omni-tool, Val managed to figure out the interface, and started off at an, easy pace. Like most treadmills, this one provided a virtual display of scenery, some planet she didn't recognize. She'd never found such displays a good substitute for the real thing, but at least she could lose herself in the pleasure of moving.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Garrus put down the weight set he'd been using, and take up a stance in the open center of the room. He was practicing forms, Val realized after a moment, moving fluidly from one stance to another. Slow at first, but gradually speeding up, practicing the powerful kicks and punches typical of turian martial arts. He looked smaller, out of armor and in a sleek black suit; smaller, but she still knew the lines of his body, how he moved. A flush crawled up her cheeks.
She turned up the resistance on the machine and ran faster, trying to immerse herself in the alien landscape scrolling across the display and shut out the glimpses of Garrus moving through his workout behind her.
When Val finally slowed to a stop, panting and covered in sweat, Garrus said, "We could spar, if you need to work off more energy."
She turned and stared at him in surprise. Sparring? Now? As hard as she tried, she couldn't tell if there was any suggestive undertone in his voice, and his stance seemed perfectly casual.
Val pressed her lips together to keep herself from asking how many rounds? or saying anything about a tiebreaker. He probably didn't mean anything other than sparring. He looked relaxed and calm, standing at a perfectly respectful distance. The tension, the heat she could feel shimmering in the air between them — that was probably all her, projecting her own complicated longing on to him. Garrus had been nothing but pleasantly friendly ever since he'd decided that her story was for real. She'd latched onto that friendliness in relief.
It was too easy — dangerously easy — to fall into that camaraderie, like a comfortable set of clothes. To let herself slide, and forget that the whole purpose of this mission was to find a way back to her own... dimension or universe or whatever it was. The place where her own Garrus still lived — she hoped. The one who shared her memories, who'd danced with her, who'd shouldered her burdens with her, who'd asked her to be a one-turian woman. They two of them had sparred, often enough, the heat and play and contact of the workout sometimes turning into something else entirely. She could remember, sharp and clear, the taste of his kisses, the subtly rough feel of his body against her skin.
Sparring now sounded like a terrible idea.
"Sorry," she heard herself say. "I'm just going to clean up and get some rest, I think."
She thought that she saw the tiniest hint of disappointment as she turned — something about the angle of his head, or the tilt of his mandibles.
It was probably no more than her imagination.
Strictly professional, she told herself. She had to treat this like a mission, and she had to make sure her teammates were on the same page. For the rest of the trip, Val half wished she'd stayed behind on Terra Nova. She tried her best to be scrupulously professional and polite around Garrus. She avoided using the gym if he was anywhere near it. For his part, Alex tried to avoid her, ducking out of any space she entered as soon as possible. Not long after they'd transited the Charon relay, with their landing only hours away, Val found Alex in the galley getting coffee and stopped him before he could make his escape.
"Tell me one thing," she said. "Do you know how to use that gun of yours?" She knew what to expect from Garrus in a fight, but Alex was an unknown quantity.
Alex's eyebrows went up. For a moment he looked startled and wide-eyed, and then his eyes narrowed. "Why?"
Val suppressed a sigh. If he was going to act like a recalcitrant crew member, she would have to treat him like one. She said firmly, "You don't have to like me, but I need to know you can handle yourself if something goes wrong down there."
His expression tightened. "I know how to use a pistol."
"That's great," she said. "Very informative. How well?"
He lifted his chin. "I got the drop on you, didn't I? I can take care of myself."
Her lips pulled into a thin smile. He was going to hold that one over her forever, wasn't he? It was true, but she wasn't about to let that memory rattle her now. Whatever happened to her, she had to make sure he got home again. From what Alex had said before he started clamming up around her, he'd spent more of his time in the lab than on the shooting range. She said, "Being smart enough to set up an ambush isn't the same as being able to hold your own in a firefight. Stay down and stay behind me if things get hot."
Surprise flickered across his face. "What, feeling protective? I didn't know you cared."
Anger seethed through her. Val bit down on it, hard. She needed to look like she was in control and in command here. "Of course I care," she snapped. "If you'd talk to me, you'd know that. You don't want to think of me as your sister, that's fine. But you're the only brother I've got." She took a breath, pushing away her frustration and hurt feelings. Professional, she reminded herself.
Alex's jaw had dropped, his eyes widening and his whole face softening. He didn't say anything, though, looking almost too stunned to talk.
Professional, Val thought again, and exhaled her anger through a tight smile. "Be suited up and ready to go in two hours," she told him, and walked away.