Preteril - A small, spiny, ground burrowing marsupial analogue found in high meadow and forest lands of Palaven.
Aligarim Dau - Giant, four-winged bird from ancient turian mythology. It was said to have stolen the seed of life from the Creator of All Things. Upon the seed of life was inscribed The Fate of All Things, the story of the universe from birth to death, inlaid in magnificent stones, gems, and metals. The Aligarim Dau coveted the seed for its beauty and hid it away where the Creator would not find it. One day while the giant bird was polishing and caring for its treasure, the seed cracked open and life spilled out. The Aligarim Dau jumped back in dismay, flapping its four giant wings, the wind scattering life throughout the cosmos.
Maraquil - Sea bird analogues. Large white and blue-green raptors that nest in seaside cliffs on Palaven.
Tussat Flower: A large, blue-green flower that forms on a cactus type plant with long, oval pads. When the flower goes to seed, the petals are replaced by a very tough but delicate silk fibre used in weaving. Tussat silk is extremely soft but hardy, making it the favourite material for clothing, linens, and upholstery.
Seat - Refers to both the building that houses the turian hierarchy and the chambers where they meet.
6 Days ASD
"Water's on!" Nihlus called, the echo of his words preceding him into the lobby. "You'll want to run the taps for a while before using the water, though." Striding around the stairs, he stopped, green raptor's eyes searching the room.
Garrus stopped halfway down the stairs, meeting the Spectre's gaze once it found him.
"The power systems are fine," Nihlus continued, "but heat's going to be a day. Something about shorts in the master circuits. They're down there scratching their heads over it now." He shrugged and headed over to look in the grocery parcels. As if his talons were thirsty, his hand drifted up to pat the pouch at his waist.
"Wait," Tali called, looking up from rooting through a bag. "You have amateurs looking at the power systems?" She shoved aside the package to grab Legion and Kal. "Come on, lets go make sure they don't blow the place up or burn it down or something."
The quarian Marine dragged behind a little. "What am I supposed to do, ma'am?" Kal asked, following her nonetheless. "Stare at the problem until it fixes itself?"
Ignoring Kal's protest, Tali stopped halfway across the lobby, turning back to glare at Nihlus. "Well?" Balling one hand into a fist, she pressed her knuckles into her hip, the image of impatient expectation.
Garrus suspected Tali's mother had taught her that pose. His mari could have been galactic champion if they held competitions.
The Spectre choked, caught in the middle of drinking from his flask. "Well, what?" He wiped his chin on his arm and closed the flask, shoving it back into it's pouch.
"I don't have the building blueprints inside my head. You'll have to show us where to go." She held out an arm, her head tilting as she waited.
A wry grin spread across Garrus's face as he watched the exchange. Poor Nihlus. The Spectre didn't stand a chance; already beaten, just oblivious to it. The team really had learned far too well from Shepard's example.
Nihlus bristled. "Do I look like the Omega travel bureau?" Setting his shoulders, he turned back to the pile of groceries on the table, casting quick, covert glances her way. Tali just stared at him.
Garrus did his best to hide his amusement at the stand-off and headed over to the pile, picking up as much as he could carry, moving it to the kitchen. He peered inside the cupboards and refrigerators, hoping the cleaners thought to do the interior as well as the exterior. They had. As he unpacked the parcels, he kept an eye on Nihlus, waiting to see how long it took the Spectre to cave in to the pressure. He'd moved on to his second armload before Nihlus let out a thin hiss.
"Fine." Nihlus grumbled and pulled his sidearm. "You'll get eaten by vorcha or feral varren if you go down there alone, anyway." He stalked past them, heading toward a door in the back wall, under the stairs.
Kal'Reegar perked up at the mention of vorcha and feral varren, no doubt glad to see a point to tagging along with the engineering geniuses. Without waiting for Tali, the Marine strode to the door.
"I'll cook for the levos," Anderson shouted over the overlapping conversations. "I don't trust the rest of you to know your stewing beef from your canned tuna." He picked up a load of bags and carried them into the kitchen.
"I'll help you," Martin volunteered, pulling off his gauntlets. "I'm starving." He followed Anderson into the kitchen. "What are we making?"
"Well, come on in here and let's see what we can find." Anderson dove into the pile of supplies, pulling a brown jar out of a crate a few seconds later. He held it up. "Really? Please tell me you didn't spend the two thousand credits it must have cost to buy Nutella on Omega."
"It was more than that," Ashley said, walking in with another load of bags. She set them down and threw up her hands to cut off any questions. "No, you don't want to know exactly how much, but it was the only way to get that . . ." She pointed at Joker. ". . . turd off the ship without breaking every bone in his body." She waved to Liara as she bent to pick up a crate. "Grab the other end of this, Doc, and we'll head up, start putting rooms together."
"There's a pile of sheets and towels and things in my room on the left at the top of the stairs, as well," Garrus called, then turned back to unpacking.
Joker limped into the kitchen and settled himself in one of the kitchen chairs, as belligerent as Garrus had ever seen him. "You made me leave my ship for three days, General. Three days!" He grumbled and crossed his arms, a marked pout on his face. "Is there a vid screen here at least? I can catch up on my stories."
Garrus laughed along with the rest despite the twinge of sadness that slid beneath, riding the memory of his night with Shepard before Virmire. Would there ever be anything that didn't remind him of her? As soon as the question appeared in his mind, he shook his head. No, he'd rather feel the sadness than lose her like that.
"We picked up a couple large vidscreens and a half dozen computers," Anderson replied as he stirred some amazing smelling ground meat in a frying pan. Garrus's stomach growled. Turning to rifle through bags, pulling out packages of seasoning, Anderson said, "Maybe when Tali and Legion get back, they can see about getting them up and running." He set his finds on the counter, then crossed the kitchen to set a plank of wood, a knife, and a bag of carrots in front of the pilot. "For now, chop these. They probably cost more than your chocolate crap."
"They didn't," Ashley said, arriving at the bottom of the stairs. She started gathering up bags. "There's a group of humans down in the bowels of this place that make money selling the veggies they grow in their hydroponic garden." She shrugged, then stopped and looked Garrus in the eye. "Might be worth looking into. Maybe with some help, they could grow enough to keep this place set up."
"Good idea. We could offer them security and keep them out from under the thumb of the gangs." Garrus added it to the mental list, along with sitting Ashley down for a good, long chat about her apparent and ongoing mental breakdown.
"Okay," Herros said as he stepped up beside Garrus, "how about you and I take care of cooking for the dextro contingent?" He looked over the pile of merchandise. "Anyone see a sterilizer in that pile?"
The meal preparation turned into a communal affair, half the team helping cook while the other half set up the bedrooms and lavatories. Soon, savoury smells overpowered the scent of cleanser, and the place started to look like people lived there.
Garrus stopped chopping tubers into strips and looked up, allowing himself a moment to feel good about the fact they had taken the first steps down the long road. But, as he looked around at the team, his face plates slowly migrated into a scowl. He was forgetting something. Running through the list of people who should be there, he checked off Mordin. The scientist had sent Dr. Chakwas ahead with the promise that he'd be along as soon as he saw to his patients. Barla Von was still securing the scows filled with Sovereign's bits and pieces, and the STG wasn't arriving until the morning. Who was he forgetting?
Mordin and his two bodyguards walked in. "General," Mordin called by way of greeting. "Has the rachni queen arrived?"
Garrus cursed to himself, but smiled at the salarian. "Not yet, we'll be sending a shuttle for her immediately."
"Excellent, am fascinated to meet her. Rachni are a most impressive species." Mordin hurried over to where Dr. Chakwas sat, working on her omnitool. His flared to life a moment later and the two hunched over what looked like scans, talking quietly, but with apparent excitement.
"I need to take the shuttle to pick to the female shaman," Wrex called. "I don't want the vultures on this rock to know she's here." He strode over to face Garrus. "I'll pick up Shiala and the bug on the way back."
Garrus nodded. "Thanks, Wrex." Shame heated the underside of his plates as he admitted, "They got lost in the shuffle."
The krogan grunted, his eyes looking past Garrus to find Martin. "You coming with me, pyjak?"
Martin ran up beside Garrus, practically bouncing with an enviable eagerness. "Garrus?"
Chuckling, wondering why he hadn't realized he was adopting a mostly-grown son when he promised Shepard he'd look after Martin, he nodded toward Anderson. "It's up to the captain. You volunteered to help him."
Anderson looked up and shook his head. "You're abandoning me?" He let out a long-suffering sigh, and grumbled, the corner of his mouth quirking into a half-smile. "Fine. Go ahead, but be careful. Omega isn't a place to take lightly."
"Thanks, Anderson." Martin snatched up his gauntlets and bolted after the krogan. "Wrex, wait up."
"He was important to Shepard?" Herros asked, appearing next to Garrus's arm to relieve him of his chopped tubers.
Garrus nodded. "She met him on Elysium before the Blitz. He ran errands and messages for her during the attack. He tried to help some people and the slavers grabbed him." He turned his attention back to chopping. "He and a group of other kids all had their eyes, ears, and tongue taken to punish Shepard for leading the resistance." He smiled. "She made sure they got the best doctors, coerced the Alliance into paying for whatever reconstruction and implants they needed, and donated almost her entire wage over the last six cycles to a rehabilitation center so they could recover in peace."
"Everything I heard about her before I met her worried me," Herros said, a subvocal of confession and regret laced through the words. "Brash, abrasive, abusive of authority figures, loathed and mistrusted by many of her superiors, known for massive victories but at the expense of insane risks." He elbowed Garrus a little. "I wasn't sure I was okay with my son being involved in suicide missions led by a lunatic." He walked over to the stove, dumping the starchy roots in with sizzling chunks of drellak meat and fragrutis cactus leaves.
Garrus followed, stirring the pot as his father added the remainder of the ingredients to the bubbling kettle of stew. He leaned over the pot and inhaled deeply, the fragrutis making his nose burn and his eyes tear up. It was going to be spicy. He hoped Tali and Kal'Reegar had a tolerance for heat. Once content with letting the meal cook, they sat down at the table closest to the stove.
"She drove a Mako through a thresher maw, Pari," Garrus said, taking up the conversation once more. "It took me two hours to wash the guts and acid off the poor tank." A smile worked its way through the memory, no regret that time, just the comfort he'd felt talking with Shepard. "Then the two of us spent the whole night replacing and repairing parts." He frowned, but it was thoughtful rather than sad. "I think that was the night I fell in love with her." Shaking his head, he pulled himself back on topic. "She was a mad woman, but she calculated the risks so that no matter how suicidal a mission seemed, she brought most of her people through."
"She sent me messages every couple of days." Herros turned one of the chairs around and straddled it, leaning on the back. "Just a quick, Garrus is fine, pulled my butt out of a collapsing building, saved my life with emergency surgery in a tiny shelter, or whatever other trouble you'd been in."
Garrus chuffed. "She didn't include that the only reason we were stuck under that damned building was because I ignored her orders and took off after Saren like a hot-headed fool? She came after me and was caught out in the open when the geth ships opened fire. She broke a bunch of ribs, but came for me just the same. Rescued me from Saren." He shrugged, not feeling nearly as much embarrassment admitting to his mistake as he would have thought. "Sovereign opened fire, trying to level the building, and the only way for us to escape was down. I had to carry her most of the way." He got up to stir the stew, the memory alive and fresh inside his head. "She built us a shelter out of medical lockers, saved our asses. Promised me that if I ever did anything like that again, she'd kill me herself."
Herros chuckled. "Good. I'm glad for your sake that she was a strong leader."
"Heat's going to be a day," Tali announced, returning to the lobby. "Shorts in the master circuits."
"Thanks for letting us know, Tali. What would we do without you?" Garrus laughed, earning a glare that sizzled through the quarians mask and started burning a hole through his armour.
"Now, make yourselves useful and get a vidscreen hooked up," Joker called. "If I don't have six hundred channels of mindless entertainment, the next three days will be a nightmare for you all." Joker got up and limped into the living area to supervise.
A comfortable silence settled between father and son until the others started drifting in, gravitating around them, bringing cheerful, blessedly simple small talk that allowed Garrus to set everything else aside in favour of pleasant company. Wrex and Martin returned just as the chefs declared the meals ready to serve.
All they heard from Mordin when the rachni queen entered was a high-pitched, "Fascinating." The salarian hurried over to the rachni and started rapid-firing questions at her. Shiala did her best to keep up with the answers, but stopped trying after Amalair agreed to let Mordin scan her, and the pair moved over to a quiet corner of the lobby.
Admiral Hackett arrived a few minutes later. He dismissed a small squad of soldiers at the door, then turned to greet the team.
"Admiral. Shiala. Wrex. Come eat," Kaidan called, waving them over. "It smells really pretty edible." The LT looked around. "Anyone seen Nihlus?" He looked to Tali and Kal. "Did he come back up with you?"
The quarians shook their heads. "He left us as soon as we reached the building's maintenance room," Kal replied. "Said something about clearing out vorcha and varren."
"Kal offered to go with him, but … ." Tali shrugged and sat at the table.
"I'm here," the Spectre grumbled, walking around the stairs. Gesturing at the blood and viscera covering his armour, he said, "I should probably wash up first." He headed up the stairs, taking three at a time.
They spent the evening meal teasing each other and telling highly exaggerated stories about their adventures. Afterward, everyone chipped in either cleaning up after the meal or helping get the rest of the place set up.
Garrus watched them work, glad of the easy camaraderie and friendship. Even Wrex, the shaman, and Mordin seemed to find a common ground in Amalair. The shaman sat, talking to the queen through Shiala, while Wrex haunted Mordin's every step as the scientist focused on studying the rachni.
Shaking his head, Garrus grinned as Wrex moved the conversation to the challenge of harnessing thresher acid. Mordin offered several suggestions to which Wrex responded with suspicion and abrasiveness, but comments rude enough to raise Garrus's hackles either met with the shaman's quiet, stern disapproval, or flew right over Mordin's head.
Gradually, everyone finished up the work and gathered in the living area where Joker sat dead center in front of the vidscreen, self-proclaimed lord of the remote control. Despite complaining about missing his stories, he ended up watching the news. Sovereign still topped the reporting from the Citadel.
"What if there are other dead Reapers out there?" Joker asked. Conversation stopped cold, every eye in the place turning to stare at him. The pilot glanced around, self-conscious, his eyes shifty. He looked down at his uniform. "What? Did I spill spaghetti sauce down my front?"
Garrus grinned as he watched the pilot's attitude click in.
"Oh, I get it," Joker grumbled. "I was just here for eye candy. I wasn't supposed to say anything that actually helped or made sense." He shrugged in the face of their continuing stares. "What? We killed the first one we faced. It's a fair bet the Protheans killed more than a few." He flipped a hand at them and turned to the vid screen. "Fine, carry on being dull-witted and slow. I'll keep my manly brilliance to myself."
"How would we ever find them?" Liara asked. She sat primly at the other end of Joker's couch. "There's a lot of empty space out there. Given fifty thousand cycles to drift … ."
A harsh inhalation of breath heralded Barla Von's arrival. "I may be of some use in that area." He took a wheezing breath. "The Shadow Broker maintains a file of such rumours and sightings." He waddled into the kitchen to greet Garrus, who straightened from wiping down the tables. "General Vakarian, the barges of material are docked in a private, secure warehouse."
"Thank you. Are you satisfied with the security?" Garrus asked, his skin going cold and his gut twisting as he imagined what the merc gangs or Aria would do with Reaper tech.
"They are well protected." The little fellow nodded with his whole body. "But we were not the only ones salvaging the Reaper's remains," he said. "Numerous vessels of unknown affiliation have conducted several raids on the debris field." His raspy breath interrupted enough that it took all Garrus's patience to suffer through it. "The fleets drive them off." Breath. "But I am certain they managed to escape with material each time." He flipped his hands in a helpless little shrug.
"In addition, the council is trying to restrict all access to the remaining debris field." The volus stepped forward, the overall impression being one of leaning in to speak in confidence. "Only the continued geth and quarian presence has dissuaded them from claiming the remaining salvage." Breath. "But I expect them to issue an order to discontinue our efforts within the next day."
Garrus nodded, keeping his facade even despite the extra wrench the news twisted into his gut. "I didn't expect to control Sovereign's remains as long as we have, but let's keep trying to gather up as much of that thing as we can for as long as we can.."
He ushered Von further into the kitchen, away from curious ears. "Tomorrow morning, can we meet early? 0600. We need to start organizing an infrastructure. Soon enough, we're going to need to pay people, order a constant stream of supplies, and see to details far too numerous for us to handle personally."
"Agreed." Von wheezed and shrugged a little. "0600 tomorrow will be fine."
Garrus led him into the living area and introduced the volus around before taking a seat in one of the armchairs. "Okay, so Joker's idea about finding other Reaper corpses. I like it, but as Liara asked, how do we find them?"
"Stories, like Barla Von said?" Kaidan offered. He pulled a kitchen chair over and straddled it. "On Earth, there were tales about the Kraken, Leviathan, and other sea monsters for hundreds of years before we found living evidence of giant squid. They lived in the deepest parts of the ocean, but still, people caught glimpses of them at sea, found dead bodies washed up on beaches, and created legends."
"I know someone who might be able to help," Hackett said from the kitchen. He hung his dishtowel from the cabinet door under the sink and walked into the common area. Yawning, he sat at the end of one of the couches and kicked his boots off before putting his feet up on the coffee table.
Garrus just watched and grinned. Shepard would have loved everyone just sitting around talking like people . . . like friends.
"His name is Dr. Garret Bryson." Hackett unbuttoned the top of his uniform and laid the panel open. "He's an expert in galactic mythology. Tracks down legends of monsters and tries to discover if they have a basis in reality." He nodded and slid down into the couch. "I'll get in touch with him as soon as I get back, tell him to contact us if he discovers anything Reaper-like."
Garrus leaned forward, forearms braced against the arms of the chair. "The Alliance has someone researching legends? Why? Is it purely academic or on the off chance that the Leviathan of Dis turns out to be some sort of unknown alien?" Turians had academics, of course, but he was pretty sure that if someone went to the Hierarchy and claimed that their work had proven the existence of the Aligarim Dau, they would be laughed out of the Seat.
Hackett nodded. "Bryson started as a pure researcher. He is fascinated by legends and myths, and studies the truth behind them. He wanted to know why people create these monsters and great creatures. When we met other races, he became obsessed with links and similarities between all manner of mythological creatures across species. After a while, he started to find evidence that there may be real beings behind some of those legends."
"Even though the Protheans existed," Liara spoke up, her voice soft, "people treated me like I was chasing legends." She straightened in her seat and looked up at Garrus. "Do you mind if I liaise with Dr. Bryson? I believe we'll discover that we have a great deal in common. Perhaps we'll even be able to fit missing pieces into one another's puzzles."
Garrus smiled and nodded. He stretched out, groaning like someone seventy cycles his senior as he slid lower in his seat, his body threatening strike action if he didn't get some decent sleep. "Sounds like a good fit, Liara." Looking over at Joker, who focused on flipping endlessly through vid channels. "And it was a good idea, Joker. Finding a Reaper corpse, especially a mostly intact one, would be invaluable."
"Shit!" The pilot jerked up, sitting tall and stiff in his chair. "Sh! Listen!" He turned up the volume on the vid screen, then turned to flap an impatient hand at everyone when they continued talking. "Shut up! It's about Shepard."
A guillotine blade of silence fell.
A pretty, young human stood in the alley where Shepard died. Garrus winced away from the sight, still able to see his own silhouette outlined on the wall in blood, even though it had been scrubbed clean. The black-haired kid looked nervous as hell, so Garrus suspected that she didn't have much experience in front of a camera. Behind her, notes, cards, and artwork covered the alley wall. Candles, flowers, and small mementos formed a shrine along the floor, leaving only a narrow strip open for people to pass through..
"People started leaving gifts and tokens within hours of it happening," Herros informed them, his voice soft and sad. He sank into an armchair off to the side of the screen.
"... people are questioning C-Sec and the council's official statements that Captain Shepard's death was a random act of violence. Humanity's first Spectre was gunned down in this alley less than thirty six hours after she killed rogue Spectre, Saren Arterius, and coordinated the destruction of the dreadnought, Sovereign."
The reporter stepped sideways, revealing a beautifully painted graffiti depicting Shepard as a warrior outfitted in silver armour, brandishing a golden sword and shield. Huge wings spread out from her back as if she soared into battle.
"It's an archangel," Ashley whispered. When Garrus looked over at her, she met his stare and shrugged. "They're warrior angels of God. Protectors and vanguards in the war against evil."
Garrus nodded and looked back at the screen, his eyes drawn to that fierce, beautiful depiction of his Kahri. She would have hated it, but he couldn't think of a more apt position for her in death. An archangel, looking over and protecting everyone just as she had in life.
"Less than two hours before her death," the reporter continued, "I asked Captain Shepard for an interview. She gave me her contact information, but when I thanked her for agreeing to meet with me, Shepard told me that she was doing me no favours involving me in her investigation."
Anderson let out a long, grumbling sigh from his seat in the kitchen. "For the love of … ."
"What was Captain Shepard involved in?" the reporter asked, as the camera panned back to show more of the alley. "Did it result in her brutal murder in this alley mere moments after her induction as the first human to join the Spectres? Rumours abound that Saren and Sovereign were just a small part of a much larger threat. If that's the case, who would want to kill our best chance of defending against it?" The camera zoomed in on the young reporter. "I intend to find out. Emily Wong reporting from Zakera Ward on the Citadel."
Nihlus stepped in front of the screen, earning a chorus of protests, but didn't move. "I warned Shepard about involving that child. Miss Wong is going to get herself killed." He emphasized the Miss.
Kaidan bristled to Garrus's right. "Shepard didn't endanger people, especially civilians, unnecessarily. She had to have thought Emily Wong could help in some way." He stood and stalked into the kitchen where he rifled through cupboards and opened the refrigerators to stare inside.
"Alenko's right." Anderson said, looking up from his omnitool. "We need to get Miss Wong read in before she starts banging on the wrong doors. She's definitely got the guts. If she's handled correctly, she could be a solid resource when it comes to educating the public. We're just going to have to be prepared to watch her back." He looked up at Garrus.
Garrus almost laughed as the more experienced soldiers all looked to him for the final decision, but he kept his expression even as he nodded. Looking over at the volus, who sat, half-sprawled in a very uncomfortable looking position in an armchair, he asked, "Barla Von, could you get Miss Wong here by tomorrow evening? I don't think it will take very much to convince her to come, but make sure she has discreet security as soon as possible."
The volus shifted, wriggling a little more upright and activated his omnitool. "I will get her here, General."
"Do you think it was the council?" Kaidan asked. He ended his search with the jar of Joker's chocolate stuff in his hand.
"Hey!" Joker squawked. "Get out of that. It's mine!"
Kaidan stabbed a spoon into it. "That just makes it taste so much better." He stuck the spoon in his mouth. "Mm mm mm."
Garrus let Joker's gasping cries of dismay go unanswered, focusing on Kaidan. "I don't know. It doesn't make sense for them to make her a Spectre and then kill her." He looked up at Nihlus as the Spectre walked around the outside of the room, headed for the door. "Where are you going?" he called.
Nihlus didn't stop. "Out."
"Not alone, you don't," Garrus started toward him, but then Wrex hoisted himself off the sofa where he'd been dozing.
"I'll go with him. I could use a drink." He lumbered after Nihlus, stopping when Martin popped up like a preteril from it's burrow. "You coming, pyjak?" he asked, laughing low and deep. He jerked his massive head toward the front door and kept walking. "Get moving if you are."
Martin looked to Garrus.
Garrus nodded despite the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Wrex wouldn't get too loaded to look out for the kid … he hoped. Damn, it was probably a really bad idea. If anyone should go with Martin the first couple of times, it should be him. He opened his mouth to refuse, but what came out was, "Call if you need anything, kid." Garrus shot him a stern, warning glare. "Especially a ride home. And keep your eyes open." He scowled as Martin ran after the other two.
I know. I know, Kahri, but he really isn't a kid, and he's going to have to learn to live here eventually.
The reasoning sounded forced and hollow even to him.
"I will," Martin called back as he ran out the door.
Garrus sighed. "Sure you will." He forced aside his reactions and sank back into his chair.
"I think it was that crazy bastard, Banes," Joker said, pulling Garrus's attention back to the conversation. "Remember the test on Luna that nearly killed her?"
"Does Cerberus have a motive to kill her, though?" Kaidan asked around another spoonful of the chocolate. Finally caving in to Joker's ranting protests, he put the cap on and stuck it back in the cupboard.
"Well," Ashley said, taking Martin's spot next to Hackett, "maybe Cerberus killed Shepard to set up the council . . . undermine them?" She shrugged and drew one foot up under her. "Use her to rally support for their causes?" She scowled. "Did they believe in the Reaper threat?"
Garrus thought about that for a second, then shook his head. He couldn't recall Shepard saying much about the organization, other than that she believed Banes was behind Kahoku's dead Marines. "I don't think they said either way, but if it's their ships poaching Sovereign's remains, they could well believe it." His scowl deepened, dark and thoughtful. They could not only believe it, but be looking for ways to prepare for it.
"Council ordering Shepard's assassination makes sense," Mordin said, looking up from his omnitool. He sat next to Amalair, still running scans and asking questions. "Council uses Shepard's memory to further goals, rally people to their causes. No interference from the truth." He went back to work, muttering to himself about the fascinating aspects of rachni biology.
Nausea churned Garrus's guts like a cement mixer. If they'd killed her, they could prop her up to support anything, undermine his . . . all of their efforts using the very person who'd started it all. He couldn't allow that. He didn't possess the foggiest idea how to stop them, but he had to. What if they used her to support the idea of appeasement? No matter how successful they were building ships and recruiting soldiers, they'd never be able to wage war against the entire might of the Reapers on their own. They needed the Alliance, the Hierarchy, all the races to bring their might to bear.
He stood back up, unable to speculate any longer. The past week had exhausted him, and the work didn't seem set to ease up any time soon. "I'm heading up for the night," he said. "See you all down here at 0800 for breakfast." He returned their good nights and retreated to his room.
After dropping the blinds, he headed into the shower, turning it on and letting it run until the water turned from rust brown to clear. For a building that had remained abandoned for who knew how long, it had remarkable water pressure, and he stood under the steaming torrent, just letting the water beat the tension and aches from his muscles.
After thirty minutes, he toweled off and dressed in his long, black robe. He ran a reverent talon over the stitch work on the hem of his sleeve. It depicted a flock of maraquil soaring and diving over rolling waves. His mari had crafted every stitch of it, even weaving the tussat-silk cloth it was made from, working on it for over a year while he served in the military. She'd given it to him when he moved to the Citadel to join C-Sec. He missed her and Sol. Maybe he'd go home for a few days once he got things in motion.
He'd just pulled back the blankets when someone rapped on the door. "Now I know why you were always grumbling at the door, Shepard," he muttered, then straightened. "Yes?"
"It's Ashley, sir. May I speak with you for a minute?"
"Come in." He walked toward the door as it opened. He nodded to acknowledge the chief's greeting, and gestured toward the sitting area. "Make yourself comfortable, Ash." Following her, he watched her body language, trying to get a read on her frame of mind as she perched on the edge of the couch. He sat across from her and leaned back, leaving it to her to start the conversation.
Ashley sighed, and half-shrugged, her head tilting almost bashfully toward one shoulder. "So, you've probably been wondering why I've been acting like such an ass since Shepard's memorial."
Garrus smiled and nodded. "It's crossed my mind. You seemed to be getting along very well with everyone until then."
Ashley braced her forearms on her knees and clasped her hands. "Yes, sir, and I'm sorry about the things I said, especially at the memorial. I know if anyone could have and would have saved her, it would be you." She sighed and shook her head. "When Jenkins died, Shepard came to talk to me." A gentle smile ghosted across her face. "Yelled at me, actually. I was feeling sorry for myself, thought I should have been the one to die. Shepard challenged me to get over myself and find a way to honour the kid's sacrifice."
Garrus nodded, the picture forming clearly in his mind. Shepard didn't pull punches when she got passionate about something.
"We'd spoken before about how dangerous Cerberus was, and I said we needed to embed someone in the organization." She chuckled, just a soft exhalation of sound. "She asked me if I was volunteering."
"So, after Jenkins died, you decided to do just that?" he asked, leaning forward, mirroring her posture.
"I did. The day Shepard died, we were approached by the leader of Terra Firma. I saw an opportunity to get an in with the pro-human movement, so I pointed out how humanity and Shepard had been dragged into the whole Reaper issue because of Saren." She shrugged and looked up, making real eye contact for the first time. "Shepard warned me to be careful, but it must have worked, because the next day, I got a message from Rear Admiral Mikhailovich. He's in charge of the 63rd scout flotilla. He offered me a position that would only be disclosed if I agreed to meet with him."
"You think he's involved with Cerberus?" Garrus's shoulders and back tightened, tension drawing all the muscles up toward his cowl.
She nodded. "He wants to meet on his ship out in the middle of uncharted space. If he was going to offer me a position that was above board, the meeting wouldn't be in the middle of nowhere." A long sigh followed that thought. "He's always been very vocal about our need to keep our technology a secret from the other races, because he believes war is inevitable. When we spoke the other day, he ranted about Shepard allowing so many aliens free rein aboard the Normandy, or the over-designed, turian-appeasing financial disaster as he called it." She let out a warm chuckle. "Good thing he didn't call her that in front of Shepard. She would have laid him out cold."
"In a heartbeat," Garrus agreed, laughing along with her.
Having someone inside Cerberus would prove invaluable, but the risk made Garrus uncomfortable. "So you kept up the alien-hating pretense on the Normandy just in case someone was reporting back to him?" He nodded, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place. "Do you want to meet with Mikhailovich?"
"Yes, sir. I think he might be my way in. I can't just walk up to Cerberus's front door and sign up, but maybe I can ease my way in through the Alliance . . . keep it about serving Earth." She shrugged and sat up straight. "I have no idea what I'm doing, but I know I can do this."
Weighing the options, Garrus agreed. If they were going to infiltrate Cerberus, Ash was a solid choice. He nodded, holding her stare. "Okay, but we'll set up an encrypted frequency where you can drop messages, and you're never out of contact for longer than forty-eight hours, even just for this meet. If you're going to be, you leave the message saying how long. If you even suspect your cover is blown, you message me, and we'll extract you immediately. Understood?"
Ash smiled and pushed herself up off the couch, a firm smile set on her face. "I didn't want to appear too eager, so put him off for a few days, saying I couldn't get leave so soon after Shepard's death."
Garrus stood. "I'll talk to Anderson when we won't be overheard, have him arrange leave for as long as you need. We'll discuss the rest of the details once we know more."
Ashley held out her hand. "Thank you, sir. I won't let you, or Shepard, down."
Garrus took the chief's hand. "She was very impressed with you, Ash. I know you'll continue to do her proud." He squeezed her fingers, then released her. "I'll see you in the morning."
"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." She strode for the door, her whole posture radiating confidence and a sense of purpose that she hadn't possessed when Garrus first met her. He just hoped that it didn't get her killed.
When the door closed behind Ashley, Garrus returned to his bed. He climbed in and propped himself up on a couple of pillows before reaching for the book on the nightstand.
Not quite a half hour later, Garrus glanced up as his father entered the room, the elder Vakarian heading straight through for the head. "Too much wild partying?"
Herros laughed. "All except Joker are passed out on the couches or draped over chairs. A few made it to their beds." He stopped at the door, sobering. "They've had a hard week. They're trying hard not to show it, but they're worn out."
Nodding, Garrus looked back down at his book. "Anderson should take them somewhere for shore leave when we're done here." He looked up when his father didn't reply, but the elder Vakarian had already stepped through, the door sliding closed behind him.
Fifteen minutes later, Herros walked out, wearing a long, deep blue robe very like Garrus's own, right down to the intricate embroidery work along the hems. Garrus smiled. "That's a new one." He shook his head. "Must have taken Mari years to do all that stitchwork."
Herros chuckled and sat on the side of the bed. "I hated to part with the old one. It was her bonding gift to me, but she put so much time into this. You know her and her fibrecraft." He ran loving talons along the edge, seeming to disappear into thought for a moment before he turned, sitting so he faced Garrus.
Garrus pushed himself up to sit, leaning against the headboard, frowning a little when he saw the serious look on his father's face. "Pari? What is it?"
Herros's eyes glassed a little, his mandibles working in a slow sweep for a long moment before he cleared his throat and shifted himself on the bed. "Your mari's health isn't the best, Garrus. She's having trouble with fine motor coordination, and she has days where she's in quite a lot of pain."
"She's gone to the doctor?" Garrus reached out, laying his talons over his father's. Claws wrapped tight around his throat as he thought of his vital, strong, kind mari hurting and hiding it from her ungrateful, runaway son during their rare vidcalls. "Why hasn't she said anything? Why hasn't Sol said anything? I would have … ." He let the sentence die. What would he have done? Dropped whatever very important case he was working on to travel home and help out? As much as the truth hurt, he knew himself better than that—at least the torin he'd been before meeting Shepard.
Herros shrugged. "You know your mari. She's scared, but doesn't want to admit anything's wrong. I went home for a week last month and took her to specialists. It's called Corpalis Syndrome. There are no treatments, no cure." A keen broke through the last words, but he cut it off, his jaw clenching.
Sun breaking through the clouds in the middle of a summer storm, pain and understanding poured through Garrus, shining a gentle, new light on his pari. Garrus clambered out from under the blankets to kneel next to his father on the mattress, pulling him into an embrace. A soft keen rumbled from his throat, both larynges layering sorrow and empathy, fear and regret. Over the cycles, he'd doubted a great many things about his father, but never the torin's devotion to his mate. Even living apart most of the time, his parents loved one another with a strength that Garrus always held as his benchmark, unwilling to accept anything less.
"I've made so many mistakes, Garrus," Herros whispered, one arm slipping around his son's cowl. "I stand by my decision for you and Sol to grow up on Palaven—real rock and vegetation beneath your talons, sky above your heads—but the rest … ." He shook his head then rested his brow against his son's. "The rest was pride. I should have left C-Sec, taken a position with Internal Forces. I should have been there with her, and then with you and Sol for the past thirty cycles. And now it's nearly too late."
Garrus pulled away, leaving his hand on his father's shoulder. Panic and denial tossed him back and forth until it took all his strength not to leap up and run down to find Mordin, demand that something be done. He couldn't just sit back and watch his mari succumb to a slow and painful death. He had so many things to make up to her, so many things he needed to say . . . to apologize for.
"Garrus?" His father's voice pulled him back, giving him a anchor to hold onto as he fought his reactions back under control.
Still, his voice shook as he said, "We'll do everything we can for her. Mordin Solus is a genius and very well known in the scientific community. Maybe he knows someone who's working on it. We have new technologies to study with the geth, the rachni . . . even Sovereign." He met his father's eyes with a resolute stare. "We'll figure something out."
Herros gripped the back of Garrus's neck just above his cowl, his thumb talon gently stroking along the ridge of hard plates. After staring back at Garrus for a moment, he nodded. "In the meantime, I'm going to move home. Fedorian has been after me for cycles to retire and take a seat in the Hierarchy." He let out a long, noisy breath, the barest hint of the keen returning beneath it. "I'm going to accept. I need to be there for your mari, and I can do a lot more for you and the war effort there than I can in C-Sec."
Garrus frowned. "Are you sure you want to go into politics?"
His father's mandible fluttered with a small, wry smile. "It wouldn't be my first choice for retirement, but Shepard was right. You're right. We need to bring together everyone and every resource we can. Fedorian has offered me the Planetary Security portfolio, and wants me to sit on both the assembly of generals and admirals. I couldn't have chosen a more perfect position to help with the war. I'll have to work slowly and carefully, but I'll find a way to bring them around."
Herros pulled away. "Let's get some sleep. Lamenting and giving into our fears won't solve the problems of tomorrow."
Garrus nodded and moved back to his side of the bed, laying on his back, pillows piled under his head, Shepard's on the top. He picked up his book, but stared blankly at the page, not seeing the words. Instead, he planned all the people he needed to speak to about his mother's illness and tried to figure out the best timing for a trip back to Palaven. Educating himself came first. Tomorrow, he'd take Mordin and Dr. Chakwas aside and ask them to research Corpalis Syndrome and put something together to help him understand the disease and what his mother needed.
"Are you reading or worrying?" Herros asked, turning over to look at him. The concern and understanding in his father's eyes eased back the sorrow and fear.
"I've been the worst of sons," Garrus whispered, looking away. "I abandoned Mari and Sol. Fought tooth and talon against you instead of just listening." He shook his head.
"Not the worst of sons," Herros replied. "We all did the best we could, Garrus. I tried to raise you to be the torin I wanted you to be." A soft, bitter chuff cut the air as he shook his head. "I didn't realize that what I needed to do was trust you enough to raise you to be the torin you wanted to be." He sighed. "Your mari always knew that. She tried to tell me a thousand times, but I was too stubborn to listen."
Garrus laughed softly. "Must be genetic."
"Indeed."
A gentle, comforting silence grew between them for a couple of minutes as Garrus thought about what it would mean for his pari to lose the mate he adored. Would it have been better or worse to lose Shepard after thirty-five cycles together? "It must seem ridiculous to you, my mourning so hard and being so lost without someone I knew a few months," Garrus said, then chuffed and shook his head.
"Not at all." Herros tilted his head a little and adjusted his pillow. "I knew I'd found my life partner the moment I saw your mother, and after thirty four cycles, have yet to regret a day."
Garrus turned his head, his brow furrowing. "You've never said anything about the fact Shepard was human. It didn't bother you?"
Herros sighed, his subvocals rumbling a little. "When your children are born, you imagine their futures. You see them growing up, bonding with a mate you adore as much as they do … grandchildren in whose eyes you can see yourself and their grandmother." A sad sort of smile drifted over his rugged, strong features. "But, as you watch those children grow and suffer through the inevitable disappointment and suffering of life, you realize that you truly wish for them to find only a handful of things: love, companionship, a sense of purpose, peace, and happiness."
He shrugged, his mandible fluttering. "I watched you say goodbye to Shepard the day she came to see me at C-Sec, and I knew you'd found everything I wished for you. I'm just sorry you lost her so soon." He reached out to squeeze Garrus's arm, his mouth working a little as if he were trying to decide on the wisdom of saying the next words.
"What?" Garrus prompted, truly wanting to know what his father had to say. He no longer retained the arrogant privilege of believing he knew better. His father knew all along the dangers he faced, the darkness the anger bred within his heart. Having seen it, he tried to steer Garrus into safer waters.
Herros let out a soft breath. "Now, I'm afraid you'll spend the rest of your life bonded to a dead woman." He patted Garrus's arm and pulled his hand back. "It's too soon to worry about, but I see so much of me in you, Garrus." He chuffed. "It's probably why we fought all the time. But, I know that when I lose your mari, whether it is in a cycle or in seventy-five cycles, that will be it for me. You're so young, so much left ahead." He smiled and shook his head. "Like I said, too early for these sorts of worries. You should be holding your Kahri close. She deserves this time."
Garrus nodded, but didn't reply. Closing his eyes, he rolled over, facing away from his father, and pulled her pillow tight to his face. Shepard did deserve that time and so much more. When they met again, she deserved to know that he'd remained faithful to her memory for as long as they'd been apart. He could give her that. He could give her that without even the slightest pang of regret.
(A-N: Sorry, only one longer chapter this week. Spent Monday and Tuesday with my brain packed in ice. LOL Migraines bite bootay. But next week, Monday and Thursday we will have chapters once more. Sorry for the wait. *hugs for all those who enjoy the hugs* ;) Kim