(A-N: The gorgeous work of art that is the new cover image for this story was painted by CuriousCanvas as her part of our MEBB14 submission. I'm in awe of her talent. CC: Thank you for choosing my story. It was a privilege to work with you.)

"You look like you spent the night stuck under the shuttle rather than sleeping in it," Tali said, slipping into the chair across from Garrus at breakfast. She listed sideways until her head propped up in her hand was all that kept her from slithering down onto the floor.

"And you look like you spent the night drinking up my entire stash of incredibly expensive triple-filtered brandy." He raised his brow plates and his volume, some amused, sadistic part of him chuckling as she slid lower and lower in her chair. If anyone pulled that on him when he'd overindulged, they'd find themselves unable to talk for a few minutes. Amazing what a quick blow to the larynx could do. "Or am I mistaken about that?" he shouted.

"Ow! No," Tali squawked as she winced, her elbow slipping. She banged her forearm on the edge of the table. "Owww. Garrus, that was mean." Rubbing her arm, she stood and stomped over to the cupboards, grumbling about mean turians.

Guilt walked up the back of his neck like fingers, setting off a prickly sort of tingling along his nerves. Tali couldn't be held responsible for his misery. "Better head over to see the doc soon, get something for the hangover. Drink lots of water. I expect to see you at 0800 in the comm room," he called after her. "Don't come half dead." He finished his meal, picked up his dishes and a small stack of datapads. He walked over to wash his dishes. "Pass the word . . . at 0801, I trigger a shipwide fire alarm if everyone isn't there and functional." He wouldn't feel the slightest guilt over that, although maybe he should.

Maybe the rest of them needed a couple of days recovery time. He'd lose his mind if he had to spend even half a day sitting still, but the rest of them . . .. Shepard had intended to give them all a week off. He let out a sharp sigh; he'd bring it up at the briefing and see what everyone thought.

She flipped both hands, shooing him. "Yes, sir, Officer Grouch, sir." She shooed him again, more forcefully that time. "Go, let us suffer in peace until your meeting."

Garrus glanced over his shoulder, his attention snagged by Ashley stumbling around the divider, her toes dragging with every step. When she reached the table, she collapsed against it. "Uuuurrgggg . . . God, someone please tell me that my alarm was a lie, and I can go back to bed until my head shrinks five sizes. Where's the coffee?"

"Ashley," Tali wheedled, her pathetic tone making Garrus smile despite himself, "Officer Grumpy is being mean to me."

"Mean? Show up late to the meeting, and you'll discover mean." Garrus chuckled. He stacked his clean dishes in the rack then turned to face Ash, shaking his head at the gunnery chief's miserable state. "0800, comm room. Be functional." Snatching up his datapads, he strode for the stairs to the CIC. "Remember, anyone isn't there, fire alarms will be tripped."

Ashley shot a rueful glare at him from under her tussled mop of black hair. "I hate you a lot right now, sir." Looking over at Tali, she scratched her stomach through her t-shirt. "Do I have to call him sir?"

"Yes, Chief Williams," Anderson's voice boomed out even before he strode around the bulkhead, "you do." He looked over the two young women and shook his head. "I hope this isn't the best that we can expect from this crew today."

Ashley pulled a passable if a little wobbly salute. "No, sir. We'll be right as rain after a couple cups of coffee and a bowl full of aspirin bran cereal, sir."

"Aspirin bran?" Tali asked, cocking her head a little. "But one is a grain husk and the other is an analge . . . analges . . .." She pressed a hand to the side of her hood. ". . . pain . . . thing."

"Yeah." Ashley started adding sugar to her coffee, pausing a couple of times and then apparently deciding it was a day for a little coffee with her sugar. "It's like Raisin Bran, but with aspirin instead of raisins. It tastes gross, but the relief is nice."

The med bay door opened and Kaidan shuffled out, the heel of one hand pressed to his temple. "Speak for yourself, Williams. Someone shoot me. Please, put me out of my misery. It'll be a kindness."

Garrus shook his head and took the stairs two at a time as he heard what sounded like a stack of mugs falling out of the cupboard, the clatter followed by a chorus of very imaginative curses.

What's a whorebinder?

The comm room stood empty when he walked in, but he hadn't expected any different. With nearly an hour until the meeting, and considering how much alcohol everyone had consumed the night before, most people would be slow starting. He wanted to have a chance to prepare, to steel himself against the gut twisting emptiness of stepping into Shepard's shoes. Luckily, that morning, they just had to go through a quick run down to make sure everyone had what they needed before heading to Omega.

"Garrus?" Joker's voice came through the room's comm system. The pilot didn't sound hung over, but his voice lacked any of its usual snarky crackle. "Barla Von calling for you. It sounds important, he's almost not pausing to wheeze between words."

Garrus chuffed. "Put him through Joker. And, Joker, considering that it's going to be Von paying your salary if the Alliance kicks you out . . .."

"Understood. Suck up to the volus. Roger that, sir. Patching him through."

A wry smile made his mandibles flutter once.

Kahri, this group of misfits you put together might just save my sanity.

As he waited for the call to connect, he wondered when exactly he'd undergone the transition from being a loner. In the military, even in C-Sec, he was the one who volunteered for extra shifts rather than going out with the gang. He had a few close friends, but now suddenly, he was part of a big, really unusual family.

The little volus appeared in holographic form, cutting off that line of inquiry. "Officer Vakarian. I thought you'd want to know." He paused for a quick intake of breath. "The council is holding a memorial this evening for Captain Shepard. They are posthumously granting her a medal for valour in defense of the citizens of the galaxy." After rushing through the last two sentences, he sucked in a long, gasping draught of ammonia.

Fury burned through Garrus like a spark touched to flash paper. His jaw locked tight as he fought to stamp out the flame enough to speak. Those bastards. Those cowardly, indoctrinated cloacas. "When?" he managed to grunt between his teeth. The sound of heavy footsteps on the deck plating let him know he wasn't alone. He hadn't heard the door.

"They're trying to claim her as their hero?" Nihlus roared from behind Garrus, his voice echoing off the bulkheads. "Those bastards." He opened his omnitool. "They can't get away with this. I have my hardsuit recording from the alley. I can . . .."

Garrus turned from Von, an emotion very like gratitude flowing through him as dealing with Nihlus allowed him to wrestle his own anger under control. "Nihlus, stay calm. However we respond to this, we have to deal with it rationally. If we fly in there half-cocked, we'll all just end up arrested." He nodded toward the chair Shepard had used. "Sit down. Calm down. The others will be here in a few minutes." Holding the Spectre's stare, he waited until Nihlus nodded and walked over to take his seat. "Don't worry," he said. "We won't let it go unanswered."

Turning to Von, Garrus said, "Thank you for letting us know, Barla Von. We're meeting in a few moments to start planning the war council on Omega. Once we know how we intend to go forward, I'll call you back."

"Very good." The volus gave him a little bow. "The memorial is at 1500 Citadel time in the gardens at the Asari Cultural Center. Security is expected to be high, as is attendance."

Garrus glanced behind him as he heard the door open. Anderson strode down the ramp. Giving the captain a quick nod, he turned back to the volus. "The council still hasn't sworn out warrants for us?"

"No," Von answered and then sucked in a wheezing breath. "In fact, they're repudiating all claims that they were responsible for Shepard's assassination."

"What's this about?" Anderson asked, sitting next to Nihlus.

Garrus let the question go, focusing on Barla Von, and it took focus to speak. His mind raced, trying to figure out a way to stop the council from hijacking Shepard's memory. Spirits, she'd hate being paraded around by the enemy as the hero of yet another battle she'd been forced to fight. She'd probably haunt Udina, throwing him down stairs and tossing the contents of his home and office at him until he died of heart failure. "I'll call you back within the next couple of hours once we've had a chance to discuss our options. Thank you again for letting us know."

The volus disappeared, and Garrus turned to face Anderson. "The council is holding a memorial for Shepard, awarding her a medal for saving their asses." Surprising him, Anderson laughed, and his anger flared again. How could Anderson be so cavalier about such a massive insult?

"Take her and turn her into a propaganda campaign to pull the wool over everyone's eyes." Anderson shook his head and leaned forward with his elbows on his thighs. "Pat everyone on the head. Don't worry, Sovereign was a single case, a dreadnought controlled by Saren."

Nihlus bristled, turning on the captain. "We can't let them get away with it. They'll lead the entire galaxy to the slaughter." The Spectre lunged out of his seat and paced across the room and back. "There has to be something we can do."

"The fact is that we aren't going to be able to stop them, Nihlus." Anderson shrugged, a rumbling sigh following his words. "We can't be there every second. If we are, we'll either end up indoctrinated or dead."

Nihlus growled low and dangerous through his second larynx, but nodded. Garrus took a deep breath of relief. At least he wouldn't have to fight Nihlus over everything. The foundations holding the Spectre together had been obliterated, but Garrus saw that the spine of him remained.

"We won't let this go unchallenged," Garrus said. He sat down in his usual chair, using the familiar perspective to anchor himself. He needed to stay calm, the steady hand on the thrusters to steer the ship through the minefields spread before them. "We just need to figure out what shape the challenge will take, and for that we need the team."

He leaned back in his chair, watching Nihlus in the peripheral of his vision. The Spectre swayed ever so slightly even then, either still under the effects of the previous night's drinking, or having gotten an early start. Still, his stare looked bright and focused, and his movement didn't appear erratic. The question whispered through Garrus's thoughts: how much experience as a functional drunk did Nihlus have? Maybe the drinking amounted to the return of an old behaviour rather than the formation of a new one.

"Barla Von could get us onto the Citadel," Anderson said after a few minutes of silence. He braced his forearms on his knees and clasped his hands, looking up at Garrus without raising his head. "Wouldn't take him more than a couple of hours to secure fake ID's for as many as wanted to go ashore. We could meet one of the Shadow Broker's ships a couple of relays out and switch ships."

Garrus nodded, the ghost of a plan starting to come together. "We need more information." He frowned, mandibles dropped. "We need other sources of information. Barla Von and the Shadow Broker do well by us, but I want to open up our sources, cast a wider net so to speak."

"Agreed, although it's a little late to do much about today." Anderson looked over as the door opened and the rest of the team started filing through. Garrus watched him, trying to see what hid under the political savvy and resignation, but Anderson proved inscrutable. Surely, he had to be furious over the council's attempted hijacking. Still, Garrus gave up without discovering anything. He hoped he gave as little away as the human did, but he doubted it.

"Take your seats," Garrus told the others, turning his attention to them. "Something urgent has come up." He waited until everyone sat. As he did, the room—even the ship—settled around him as he felt the mantle of leadership transfer. For a moment, he sensed what Shepard must have seen in him all along, but then it faded. He let out a resigned sigh. Maybe one day it would return to stay.

He cleared his throat. "Okay, everyone, let's have quiet." When only the Normandy's background hum competed with him to be heard, he leaned forward, bracing against his knees. "Barla Von contacted us to let us know that the council is holding a memorial for Shepard in about ten hours. They're giving her a posthumous medal for saving them and the Citadel."

Ashley collapsed back into her seat. "I think my hangover is coming back. I feel sick."

"That's not the hangover," Kaidan replied, sitting straighter in his chair. "What are we going to do? Sneak aboard, crash it?"

"Crashing it isn't going to make any difference in the end," Ashley said. "They'll forget her in a couple of weeks, create a legend that works for their agenda." She let out a harsh bark of bitter laughter and jumped up out of her seat. "Trust me, the truth doesn't get in the way." She paced to the door. "Damn it." She slammed the heel of her hand into the metal. "But not her. They shouldn't be able to have her."

"Ashley." She spun to face him, her mouth opening to shout, but she stopped when Garrus met her angry stare with a calm one. He tilted his head toward her chair. "Shepard doesn't want your bitterness. Don't burden her memory with that."

"There's nothing we can do to stop their revisionist history," Tali said. She stood, her hands wringing for a second. "Ashley's right, they'll turn Shepard into what they need. In the end, that doesn't matter. What matters is that when we had the chance, we stood up and did the right thing." The silvery reflection of her eyes turned to Garrus. "We need to get a plan in motion now if we're going to make it there in time."

"Agreed," Legion said, drawing Garrus's attention. The geth turned toward Tali. "Creator Zorah, we believe that together geth and the creators can make a statement that honours Shepard-Captain's memory."

Looking around the room, Garrus saw agreement in every set of eyes. None of them could live with Shepard being hijacked by the council. They all loved her, and they'd all lost her. He, Nihlus and Anderson weren't alone in that. He felt it bond him to them. Before they had all been her people . . . her team. They'd become his. Even Nihlus and Anderson.

"All right." He stood and opened a channel to Barla Von. They could hold their meeting on the way to rendezvous with their transport.

"Keep your eyes open for Nihlus," Garrus called over the nervous mutters and shuffling. He understood their discomfort: an airlock full of military personnel going into battle dressed in civvies. He felt just as naked as they did without his guns and armour, but he needed them to maintain military discipline. Armed or not, his people were headed into enemy territory.

"Eyes front!" he called, drowning out the noise this time and bringing silence. "Somehow Nihlus got off the ship before us. He's been drinking. Depending on how much he's had, he could be showing little to no caution. Keep your eyes open." His hand rose to his hip, but found only fabric. The compulsion hit him again, some twitch deep in his brain demanding that he never go anywhere without a gun. Damn, why couldn't he stop checking for a weapon that wasn't there?

He forced his hand to stop halfway to his hip the next time. "Stay together. We'll take transport to the Citadel tower transit station and walk from there." He stretched taller, using his height to see to the back of the transport's airlock, every eye looking to him. "Remember, we're here to make a peaceful statement. Shepard wouldn't want any of you to get hurt or end up arrested on her behalf. Pay her tribute the best way you know how . . . follow her example."

"So, we should start a bar fight, then leap off the balconies in the embassy, and start praising the Enkindlers in the square?" Kaidan asked. His eyes sparkled as everyone around him laughed, but the emotion on his face wasn't humour. The lieutenant brushed away tears with a quick swipe of his hand and held Garrus's gaze.

Garrus smiled and nodded slowly, both appreciating Kaidan diffusing the tension and how much it cost him. "Exactly," he replied, "except the opposite." He looked to Anderson.

Anderson straightened and squared his shoulders. "Everyone here knows what Shepard wanted. As far as those of us assembled here are concerned . . .."

Pressly pushed through the crew to stand at their head. "We were her crew, Captain . . . her sword and her shield." He stood at attention, rigid and implacable. "She may have made us wonder about her sanity and her methods from time to time, but she never steered us wrong." The older officer looked up at Garrus. "She pointed us to Vakarian here and made him the general at the head of this fight. That makes us his sword and his shield." He saluted Garrus.

After a moment of stunned surprise, Garrus saluted him back. "Thank you, Navigator Pressly."

Anderson gave his XO a hard smile and nodded. "You heard the general. We're here to pay respects, not cause a riot. Don't give C-Sec any reason to move against us." The captain turned to the door as the decon cycle ended and the outer hatch opened. "Let's move."

The general. Garrus hesitated at the threshold, staring out at the dock. Somehow he'd gotten on a ship and flown away from that place as a senior investigator for C-Sec, returning a few short months later as the general in charge of the galaxy's smallest army. All because a praela roared into his life upon a gestallan wind and completely changed his fate. Those sorts of things only happened in the great legends. They certainly didn't happen to torins like him.

Anderson glanced back over his shoulder, pulling Garrus over the threshold with a nod as if he'd read Garrus's thoughts. Fine. If they needed him to be a general, he would find a way to be the best damned one he could. He jogged to the head of the line, striding at Anderson's side.

"General Vakarian," the Captain said, casting a quick smile his way. "You know wherever she is, Shepard's grinning like a fool over that. Particularly over Pressly giving you the promotion."

Nodding, Garrus remained silent, the warmth of her presence flaring through him then settling like a low burning candle in the pit of his gut.

They made it to the nearest transit station without attracting any attention at all. It surprised Garrus, and set his heart thumping a little harder and faster. His body felt something off in the very fabric of the Citadel and it kept pricking his nerves, keeping him poised to run or fight. Still, the C-Sec officers in the area glanced over the crew without any particular notice, dismissing them as just a few more faces amongst the press of people crowding through on the way to the Presidium.

Kaidan, Anderson, and Tali rode with him. Traffic clogged the airways, moving more and more slowly as they neared the Presidium. Although he saw the odd tendril of smoke curling into the air, the presidium clean up had moved along a lot more quickly than he would have thought.

"The Citadel looks pretty good," Kaidan said, echoing Garrus's thoughts when they finally landed. The lieutenant got out of the car and turned a slow circle. "At least the Presidium does."

"Sovereign tried to carve its way out through Tayseri Ward. The rest of the Citadel managed to avoid taking more than small arms fire and missile damage," Anderson said, looking around as well. "It seems like more than four days . . . six since Sovereign."

"Let's move off so the others can land." Garrus walked over to the base of the tower. The Citadel had been his home for a lot of cycles, but in his time with Shepard it had transformed into something both foreign and dangerous. He could scarcely believe how much the galaxy had changed in those three months . . . how much his life had changed. How much he'd changed. Maybe it all boiled down to the changes in him and seeing all the old, familiar things through a new lens.

He forced his mind away from the melancholy. He needed to stay sharp and alert, not brooding inside his head. When the last taxi dropped off its passengers, he started for the park a couple of blocks further up the Presidium.

They'd just about arrived when Garrus's inner alarm went off with a shriek, stopping him so abruptly that Kaidan ran into his heels. He frowned, his heart hammering against his chest wall, and the sting of nettles prickling down his spine. C-Sec had alerted to something. Despite the huge crowd that filled the gardens and spilled out past the entrance, Garrus could spot every single C-Sec officer, even the plain clothes ones. All the ones around the park became restless at the same time, their hands rising to their ears, which meant a bulletin or dispatch over their radios.

"Something going on?" Kaidan asked, stepping up beside him.

Garrus nodded, his heart slowing a little as none of the officers in the area seemed the least bit interested in the Normandy crew. In fact . . .. "Yeah. C-Sec just went on high alert."

"Think it's about us?" The lieutenant turned to watch their backs.

"No." Garrus nodded toward the closest officers, all of whom had looked up. He followed their stares, his heart leaping into his throat, choking him as it ached, torn between beauty and sorrow.

"Oh my god," Ashley gasped, a startled combination laugh and sob escaping as the chief shaded her eyes against the bright, artificial sunlight.

The sun warmed the side of Garrus's face as he lifted a hand to his brow, his heart trying to bludgeon its way out through his plates.

Shepard stopped halfway through pulling her nightwear from her closet and turned to look at him, an incredulous grin slowly spreading across her face. "Sweet baby Jesus, Garrus . . . we're taking the first landing party down to Rannoch. Over three hundred years of exile . . . and in the morning, it ends. When I was a kid, I wanted so badly to get off Mindoir and have adventures, but this . . . this is a whole other level."

One hand flopped a little as she tried to put her awe into words. He loved when she did that—her emotions so strong that she had to beat them down into words, but she could never seem to find ones big enough to fit. "Our little Tali will be remembered for as long as there are quarians." Shaking her head, she blinked back the shine of tears and turned back to her closet.

He nodded, watching her with an incredulous awe of his own. How the tiny, crazy, impossible woman managed the miracles she pulled off . . .. He wanted to say that she would be remembered just as long for being the driving force behind it all, but he knew she'd just blow it off. No matter what she did, she parcelled up the credit and gave it away to others. Wrestling aside his emotions to find words, he said, "It's extraordinary, and it all started with one of the best shots I've ever seen."

Shepard laughed. "One of? Oh, Officer, you will pay for that one. You know . . . one day when you aren't covered in bullet holes and blast damage."

A double line of ships moved along the length of the Citadel, flying between the ward arms toward them. Each pair consisted of a geth and a quarian ship. The line stretched as far as he could see, the ships moving slowly, the emergency lights along their hulls blinking the 'Missing Sailor' signal. He closed his eyes, listening. The engines of the ships thrummed low and deep, adding a back rhythm to the moment as the crowd started to realize something incredible was happening right before their eyes, and a tangible sense of awe burst into being. The shockwave of a tiny nova of hope, reverence and gratitude rolled toward him. He turned back toward their destination as it washed over him.

"That's all the memorial she'd ever need, right there," Garrus whispered as he opened his eyes, watching the crowd rather than the ships moving past. Eyes of every kind and colour turn to watch the very real hope of peace and cooperation fly past. Whispers of wonder accompanied smiles and then laughter and delight as reality registered in every mind and heart there. A couple of days before, they'd almost been snuffed out, but then a tiny woman, her partner, and the unlikely alliance of people she'd formed had saved the day.

When he'd watched Tali and Kal'Reegar step onto the surface of Rannoch ten days before, Garrus felt the most remarkable sense of being a part of living history. He'd never experienced anything to compare with it, and through it all, he'd watched Shepard, wondering how the galaxy had come to rotate around her. However it happened, he'd been honoured and humbled to be a part of it. Standing there, the proof of her life flying past, signalling its grief at her loss, he felt that sense return again. At that moment, he realized that the galaxy hadn't just tilted around Shepard's fulcrum, it tilted around him as well. For whatever reason, he'd been chosen to take a place on the leading edge of changing the galaxy forever. "No pressure," he whispered under his breath.

He looked back up at the line of ships and said, "No matter what the council and Udina do to her memory, that's her legacy."

Wrex grumbled, a small thunderclap of sound rolling up the line of crew. "A part of it." He chuckled, the sound almost more fierce than his growl. "Now we just need to get together a parade of rachni riding thresher maws."

Garrus laughed along with the rest of the crew. That sight would keep the fools awake at night.

A hand slipped into his, gripping his talons tight. He didn't need to look down to know who it was. "Is this what Legion meant?" he asked, keeping his voice soft and his subvocals flat.

"Yes. He and I called the ships that remained after the attack," Tali replied. She tugged at his hand a little. "We should keep moving and do this. She'll be disgusted if we get ourselves arrested."

"She would have loved this, Tali," Garrus said, starting back toward the garden. The glow of Shepard's presence that resided in his gut began to brighten, filling him with confidence. "Your courage impressed her, and not just the charge headlong into danger kind. She considered your willingness to give the geth a chance, risking everything to take that first scouting party to Rannoch, the bravest thing she'd ever witnessed."

Tali's fingers gripped his talons tighter, but she didn't answer that. Instead, she nodded toward the crowd. "They feel it, Garrus. They may not understand exactly what it is or why they feel it, but they do. They know what she did for all of us, and one day they'll understand the rest . . . what we're going to do for them in her honour."

He nodded and squeezed her hand. "Okay, let's keep moving before we all end up in . . .." He stopped, scowling as the sound of crashing, glass breaking, and people shouting erupted ahead of them.

"They're lying to you, and you're all too stupid or indoctrinated to even know!"

"That's Nihlus's drunken shouting, isn't it?" Alenko asked, then cursed under his breath.

"She didn't save you from Saren!" the Spectre cried out. "She saved you from these vipers. There are a thousand more like Sovereign on the way, and these so-called representatives of ours intend to trade all of you to save their own hides!"

C-Sec officers began to tear their eyes off the sky, moving in toward the park. Garrus let out a growling sigh, his gut dropping. Damn that idiot Spectre. After everything Shepard went through to save his stupid, grieving ass.

Frustration and anger shoved aside Garrus's grief. If the council didn't kill Nihlus, in that moment, Garrus couldn't guarantee he wouldn't save them the trouble and do it himself.

Praela(s) - The name for ancient warrior spirits who were believed to ride great beasts (or forces of nature) into war at the head of their tribe's legions. Spirits of great bravery, tenacity, and a fearsome beauty.

Gestallan - (particularly in reference to the wind or other force of nature) Of encompassing change. A change of fate or fortune. In turian mythology, it was believed that Praelas rode such winds as their steeds, charging into battle to change the fates of individuals, tribes, and whole planets.