Perir - Peririn plural. Male turian under the age of 15

Senuxem - Ancient exalted. A term of reverence when referring to one's elders: grandparents, great grandparents. Senux: slang. A derogative. Human equivalent: geezer.

42 Days ASR

Fifteen minutes passed before Garrus walked back through his bedroom door, entering so abruptly that he startled Shepard mid-battle as Tiny-Blue-Armour-Turian took on Tiny-Gold-Armour-Turian.

"I need to bring in Archangel guards for the house," he announced, leaving her no doubt as to what he'd been thinking about in the shower. "Maybe Melanis can suggest a couple of commandos for inside during the day when Pari and Sol are away."

Shepard looked over her shoulder at him, the action figures still clutched in her hands. "No! Blessed Enkindlers, love, no." A flush searing its way up her neck at being caught in the act, she set the little turian warriors back on the shelf, then turned. A single stride closed the distance, and she took Garrus's hands in hers. "You can't lock Trea up here behind a wall of guards, Garrus." The fear and confusion in his eyes pulled her in, her heart swelling inside her chest until her ribs strangled it. Releasing one hand, she reached up to press her palm against his mandible. "Guards, yes … on your whole family, but keep them as invisible as possible."

Garrus backed away from her until he ran into the side of his bed. She didn't follow, letting him gather his space. She'd suggested he place his ill mari at risk, that would take him some time and distance to wrap his head around.

Garrus's frown deepened until his eyes all but disappeared into the shadow of his brow plates. "What do we do to protect her during the day? Have Pari take her to work? Sol?"

How deeply he cared and how openly he loved filled her with both adoration and fear. How could he come through a war as brutal as they were facing without shattering into a thousand pieces? She swallowed the fear and gave her head a hard shake of denial. She wouldn't let that happen. If his role proved to be Final Decision Man, she could take up the mantle of Hard Decision / Sacrifice Woman. She could weather the hits and would do so gladly to prevent his suffering those wounds.

"No," he said, "she's not strong enough." Giving his head a violent shake, he spun and paced to the window, looking out into the rain. Heels of his hands pressed into the sill, he leaned toward the glass. "She's terminal barring any miracles." He sighed, the long, brittle sound painted across the window in silver fog. "I'll bring in squads from Omega—"

"No, Garrus." Shepard followed him, turning him to face her. "Love, did you see her down there?" The pain in his eyes—already mourning a mother he'd yet to lose—set her own prickling with tears. Still, she smiled, a tight press of lips, and cradled his face between her hands. "She was amazing down there, Garrus. Sure, she couldn't stand for long, but I was still staring at the thing when she just whipped a gun out of her chair cushions and blew it away. She's a fighter, Garrus, she can't just sit around and watch the world from a prison of blankets and tea."

Shepard sighed and stroked the arch of his neck with gentle, flat palms. "If you were in her position, Garrus, what would you want?"

He leaned down to press his brow to the top of her head. "It's not that easy, Kahri." He relaxed down into her a little more as she slipped her arms around his neck. "She has violent mood swings, and sometimes she has trouble remembering things. The last time we visited, I found her sorting a cupboard over and over, crying because she couldn't make herself stop." Pulling away, he slid his hands up her arms until he clasped her fingers in his talons. He tugged her over to the side of the bed and sat, gathering her in against him. "Yes, she's proud and determined to be independent, but she's just not able."

Shepard turned in the circle of his arms to sit in his lap and snuggled in against him, one hand stroking the plates on his chest. "What is she passionate about?" She met his gaze, pouring all the love and empathy she felt into hers.

"Helping people," he said after a moment. "She left external forces for a posting with internal because she couldn't stand the impersonal brutality of combat." A long sigh whistled through his nose. "She always wanted to be in shoulder-deep, fighting for civilians. She said that soldiers could take care of themselves, it was the bakers and the teachers who needed someone watching out for them."

Shepard nodded and tucked her head in under his chin, rubbing her cheek against the smooth hide at the base of his throat. "Sounds like someone we could use to help prepare the civilians for the war."

He hummed a soft agreement, but just tipped his head to rest against the top of hers for long moments. "You're right," he said at last, letting out a sigh so deeply rooted that it sounded as though it drew blood. "We'll lose her that much faster if we treat her like an invalid. She'll withdraw and wither faster than the disease takes her."

That time, Shepard just hummed her agreement, leaving it to him to decide what to do. As passionately as she might feel about Trea being allowed to live out her days according to her own wishes, it wasn't her place to interfere.

Garrus rumbled a little and rested his chin on her head. "Maybe, if she had an assistant to do the public work—she hates public speaking and politics … someone to run interference when she's not stable … she could help organize evacuation routes and shelters."

Shepard pulled away to meet his eyes, heart still feeling too big and held captive by her ribcage, but glad to see some of the pain in his stare replaced by purpose and hope. "That sounds like something she could pour all that caged passion and energy into, and if she's working with your pari, he'll be able to make sure she isn't wearing herself out." She leaned in and kissed him. "I know it won't be easy to let her go out there, Callor, but seeing her happy and productive will ease it a little, I hope."

Garrus kissed her back, then pulled her in tight. "She's always been so strong." He chuffed softly. "Strong, but never tough … never hard. She's always the one taking care of everybody else. I thought it would be decades before I had to start looking after her."

"It sounds like this apple didn't fall far from the tree," she replied, her voice soft. "We'll protect them the best we can, Garrus, and we'll … " She pulled away and smiled up into his eyes. "... yes … we'll, look after her." A soft sigh drifted between them. "But I think you've got the right idea. She needs to live strong and proud and happy for as long as she can. She sounds like she's spent her entire life earning that right."

He kissed her. "Go on, get up off my legs, impossible woman." Garrus laughed and lifted her off his lap, his hands gentle, his grip light and playful. "As if you didn't lead me down that path by the hand. Go play with my toys some more; I need to get dressed. Pari and Adrien should be arriving any minute."

Barely keeping a grip on a wicked, teasing grin, Shepard strolled over to his collection and held up the two action figures she'd been playing with. "These two are very cute." An exaggerated weighing gesture pushed one toward him and drew one back, then swapped places, back and forth. "Which one did little Garrus want to be when he grew up?" Laughter beat at the backs of her teeth, almost breaking loose when he glared at her.

He turned back to his duffel, sorting through until he pulled out a tunic and leggings. "A couple of those are collector's items." He tossed the clothing on the bed and crossed his arms. "They're going to be worth credits one day."

Shepard swallowed another wave of laughter, and narrowed her eyes into a sultry, come hither stare. "You're so sexy to me right now, you big, spikey nerd."

He tossed his tunic at her. "Stop. You didn't have toys when you were a child?" He shook the leggings out and slipped them on.

She set the figures back where she'd gotten them. "I did. My Johnny West horses were my favourite. Gorgeous, strangely marked horses whose ears and tails broke off if you looked at them wrong." She let out a soft sigh and threw him back his tunic. "And, hey, General, I wasn't just teasing. The more I discover about you, the sexier you get."

He finished dressing, rolling his shoulders to settle the cowl of his tunic, then sat on the side of the bed, facing her. "Come back and sit with me?" he asked, reaching out a hand.

Shepard closed her fingers around his talons just long enough to give them a squeeze, but then shook her head and turned back to his shelves. "I think better on my feet and without you trying to wear me down with your wiles."

"Wiles?" He chuffed, mandibles spreading and neck arching as he held out his arms out. "Why would I have to use wiles when I can just use my rakishly good looking sex appeal?"

"Is that what they're calling … " One hand gestured toward him, sizing him up. "... whatever that is?" A soft smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. Damn but she loved him. She lifted another turian soldier off the shelf, looking it over without really seeing it. All the things Trea had said tumbled around in her head. Damn them all for teasing her with the hope that it could work.

"How did your talk with Mari go?" he asked after a second.

Shepard let out a half-snort, half-cough. "Is that what you call that blatant set up?" She walked the small, intricately detailed toy along the edge of the shelf. "And it went fine. She told me about her parents."

Garrus let out a breath loud enough to have been a sigh. She glanced back at him, but said nothing. "Do you love me?" he asked after a few seconds. He stood and walked a step toward her, a wall of gentle but solid demand. No teasing or lightness coloured his words, just the need for her to stop dancing around and denying the issue.

"You know I—" Shepard cut herself off and shook her head. Damn, she had to stop doing that. He didn't need the buck passed back to him. Not after everything. Meeting his ice-blue stare, she nodded. "Yes, I'm completely in love with you, Garrus. My heart is yours."

"And Nihlus?" A hand pushing her back into the wall, the pressure behind his stare grew heavier and heavier. "Do you love Nihlus?"

For a moment, the lie of continued denial sat on the end of her tongue. She even opened her mouth to turn it loose before she saw the slight slump through his shoulders, the minute dip in his mandibles. Damn. He deserved the truth, and so did Nihlus. She lifted a hand, but it stalled halfway to his chest.

"Yes." The word came out as a whisper that bordered on a sigh of relief. "Yes, I love him. I—I'm in love with him."

"Thank you." He closed on her until her hand pressed against his stomach. "He needs you." Garrus reached up to cover her hand in both of his. "I think you know how much. He looks good since you came back, but he's still drinking." He squeezed her hand. "He's fragile enough that the slightest thing could shatter him."

Shepard stared at Garrus for long moments, her eyes focused on where his throat flowed into his keel. Her heart raced fast and hard, pounding in the hollow between her clavicula. She didn't disagree with him about Nihlus. The Spectre needed her, and he needed Garrus as well. He needed something he could put complete faith in, faith that was never broken. The three of them, if it held—if the forces of human nature (or turian nature as the case might be) didn't shatter them all into a million pieces—could be that thing.

"If you do this," she said, speaking before she even realized she intended to, making a decision somewhere in her gut that the rest of her wasn't ready to accept. "If you open this door and lead us through, I want you to know something." She looked up, meeting his eyes, tears trickling from the corners of hers. "It's you, Garrus. Do you understand that? It will always be you." She waited to see that he understood before she continued. He nodded, and she drew a deep breath.

Damn, are you really considering the idea of two lovers, two mates … husbands?

"But if one day, you ask me to choose, I'll never forgive you for what it'll do to Nihlus. I'll love you always, but he doesn't deserve to have his heart broken again." She shook her head, a chill curl of fear twining through the chambers of her rapidly beating heart. "I don't know what it'll do to him. I don't even know if he'd survive it. His whole life has been loss and betrayal … being used by the people he loves. I won't do that to him."

Apparently, more than considering it.

Garrus met her stare for long seconds, each one stretching into eternity, as she tried to isolate and identify the emotions shining at her from the depths of his gaze. Love, definitely, but also something that looked too much like awe for her comfort, and … joy. Yes, so much joy that she couldn't help but match his smile as his mandibles spread and fluttered. And then he pulled her hard into his side, his mouth hungry and possessive against hers. His mandibles pulled in tight, allowing him enough suction to draw her bottom lip between his mouth plates, tongue caressing before nudging against it softly, backing off to ask rather than demand.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing into him hard enough that the edges of his plates hurt where they crossed her wounds. Mouth open, panting softly, she returned the kiss. Slow and passionate, it deepened until it felt as though they made love despite the clothes between them.

Pulling back just enough to untangle his tongue from hers, Garrus whispered. "You're the bravest person I've ever known." Brushing his nose against hers, he closed his eyes. "And you have the biggest heart." Then, as she pulled back just enough to focus on his face, he frowned a little, brow plates plunging toward his nose. "I love you, Kahri, and I love Nihlus. He's my fratrin, and I'll never ask you to hurt him." He leaned down, his brow brushing hers. "It's always you too, you know. I can't imagine trying to live without you again." Caressing her lips with his mouth, he let out a long sigh. "Before that day in that alley, I never really worried about losing you. Since you came back, this fear is a nightmare I can't wake up from."

Shepard turned her face into his neck, hating that she could say nothing to offer any solace. All those pretty promises amounted to a pile of lies. None of them could promise tomorrow let alone a lifetime. "We're all at risk," she said at last, "but I promise to fight like hell to come back to you, Garrus. Always." She clung to him for long moments, just savouring the safe harbour of his arms. But then voices drifted up from downstairs, easing her from his embrace. "Sounds like your pari is home."

Pulling away, she kissed him, then turned to walk to the door. "Come on, let's go make sure Nihlus isn't burning down the house." At the threshold, she turned back. "I mean it, Vakarian. It's always you."

He smiled, his eyes shining as he nodded. "And it's always you, Kahri."

The voices from downstairs ramped up to yelling. Shepard met Garrus's sudden, worried frown for a half second, then opened the door and hurried to the stairs.

"Get them out of here! I will not be held prisoner in my own domin, Herros!" All the serenity and joy in Trea's voice had vanished, replaced by a shrill, terrified rage.

"Diume, please," Herros replied, his voice set to 'calm the crazy tarin down', not patronizing, but gentle enough to be guaranteed to piss his bond-mate off. "You're … ."

Something smashed. It sounded like Trea's mug slamming into the tile floor. "Don't start with that tone, Herros." Something larger crashed, then something else. "Don't tell me what I am. I know what I am." Another something, that one wood, hit the floor. "I protected myself! I protected our home! I do not need babysitters."

"Mari, please," a female voice said, the tone firm but caring, "sit. You know that you could have a seizure if you get upset."

Shepard ran down the last few stairs, stopping at the bottom. Nihlus remained at the stove. Herros and a tarin—Solana, she assumed—stood to Trea's either side, their hands held out. Four uniformed soldiers stood back a couple of metres looking as though they couldn't decide whether to keep out of it or take Trea down.

Even though Shepard was sure Herros and Sol were just trying to ease Trea back into the chair lying on its side behind her, their postures came off like they were trying to herd an angry cat into a cage. If it were her, approaching her like that would ensure they ended up sporting bruises that left them sitting funny for a couple of weeks.

She looked back at Garrus, leaving it to him as to how he wanted to handle the situation. Luckily, he seemed as upset by the drama playing out before them as Trea was. Stepping out where they could see him, he said, "I have no idea what flower that is, Kahri. That would be my mari's area of expertise." He glanced back, his stare begged Shepard to play along. He needn't have worried; she approved of his plan.

Looking to Trea, Shepard said, "I was telling Garrus about a scent that came in from the garden this morning." Ignoring the destruction and the turians ranged around the room, Shepard walked over to the tarin. "It's sweet, a little spicy, and well … frankly, it's just about the sexiest thing I've ever smelled."

Garrus shrugged. "I thought it might be the rylamia, but you know me, one flower is much the same as the next." He grinned and approached his mari as if nothing were going on, taking her hands. "Could you show Shepard around while we finish up breakfast?"

Shepard kept her face impassive. She knew Trea would smell the distraction a kilometre away, but she didn't have to add painful to the obvious. She slipped an arm around Garrus, every cell in her body adoring him so hard in the moment that she couldn't help but touch him. Now if only Trea hadn't gotten too wound up to allow him to distract her with something she loved. They needed to get her out of the line of fire and diffuse the situation so Garrus could deal with his father and sibling.

Trea looked back and forth between them for a moment, her eyes narrow and brow plates lowered with suspicion, but then she nodded. "That's the rylamia. It's blooming." She held out her arm. "I'd be honoured to show you around my little obsession, diume. I have plants grown from clippings passed down through more than ten generations." A genuine smile fluttered over her face. "When you and Garrus settle down somewhere, we can take clippings from them and plant them in your garden."

Her own home and a garden filled with tradition and love … . Shepard glanced up at Garrus, seeing the same combination of astonished realization and longing painted across his face as had set her heart thumping. She looked over at Nihlus, suddenly able to see his dream alive and waiting for them, just an arm's reach into the future. A soft smile of wonder answered the Spectre's inquisitive frown.

Shepard slipped her hand through Trea's elbow, gripping the tarin's forearm to help support her as they started toward the door to the yard. Time enough to explore her life's strange turns once the family was calm.

"I came by my obsession with plants honestly," Trea said. She chuckled, her demeanor relaxing a little as they stepped through the glass door into the yard. "Both of my maris loved to garden. When they bonded, they retired from the military and opened a nursery. By the time Rhian retired a couple of cycles ago, it had grown to cover more than five sections of land." She squeezed Shepard's arm. "One day, we'll take you out there. It's beautiful. Walking its paths feels like treading upon some wonderful, unexplored planet where plants from all over the galaxy landed and made themselves at home."

The tarin led Shepard into the back section of the garden, stopping at long lines of a low shrub covered in spiky little leaves and tiny white, star-shaped blossoms. The glorious fragrance wafted with the clouds of mist, enveloping Shepard in olfactory heaven. "This is the rylamia." Trea bent down and picked a petal off one of the flowers. "Chew on this, but don't swallow it, just in case."

Shepard lifted an eyebrow, but took the petal and did as she'd been told. A burst of sweet, flowery flavour exploded in her mouth. She'd never tasted anything like it, the closest being strong jasmine tea with a lot of honey. "Wow," she said removing the destroyed petal, "I can see how it's grown for sugar. It's gorgeous and super sweet." She moved to drop the petal, but then hesitated and stuck it in her pocket.

Trea led her toward the pond in the corner, the small body of water filled with colorful fish analogues, their heavily armoured scales gleamed, sleek rainbows slipping beneath the ripples. Huge plants surrounded the back side, draping over the water, while ground hugging ones populated the front.

"This is so beautifully designed and landscaped," Shepard said, searching for a natural progression for the conversation. "Did you do all this yourself?"

Trea smiled and nodded. "I did. It's been my third, now fourth, child. Evolving it over the cycles gave me respite from worrying about my work and my family." She took a long breath and leaned into Shepard's arm a little more heavily. "There is something in caring for the garden that just lets my brain relax into a wonderfully quiet place."

"I had a hobby like that once." Shepard let out a long breath as she realized that she hadn't even thought about her love of origami in years. Eden Prime had detonated a nuclear bomb in the middle of her old life, obliterating everything. Remembering her question to Nihlus about Cerberus hinting that she needed a hobby, she let out a thin snort. She used to leave little folded animals and flowers behind everywhere.

She shrugged as Trea turned a questioning gaze on her. "Seems like a lifetime ago, that's all." Chuffing low in her throat, she shook her head. "It was a lifetime ago." Softening the moment a little, she smiled. "Now, between your pahirs and saving the galaxy, my time is pretty much spoken for."

Trea nodded, but remained silent.

They walked along a stone pathway through the tall, silver-veined plants, Shepard glancing up at the canopy that covered both sections of the garden. "Why do you have a canopy over the garden?" she asked. "Wouldn't it be good for the plants to get natural water?"

Trea smiled brightly and shook her head. "The canopy is not for the plants, sorau dulca, it's for you." She laid her other hand over Shepard's, squeezing her fingers. "We didn't want you to have to remain inside or wear your armour out in the garden. The canopy is treated to block all solar radiation."

Shepard stopped, incredibly touched by that. She just stared into Trea's eyes, unable to form the words to say what she was feeling.

Trea smiled and patted Shepard's hand then gestured over at a couple of heavily padded loveseats tucked away in a corner near the doors into the house. "I was a young matrula, newly returned to Internal Forces when the Relay 314 Incident occurred." She settled into the generous embrace of the chair's cushions and pulled her blanket in snuggly around her neck.

"Had Garrus been older, I might have volunteered to return to service," she continued, a small shrug punctuating her words. Her mandibles lifted, the effect almost bashful as she smiled. "Not because I wanted to fight your people, but because I was curious about them."

Animation and light began to glow through her expressions and actions once more, the jerky stiffness vanishing as the last of her tension and anger dissolved. "Who were these newcomers who could fight toe to toe with turians? Not because their technology matched ours, but because their tenacity and spirit did." Her smile widened. "I knew that humanity, with all their bold and unquenchable curiosity, would rise quickly within the galactic community."

"We certainly haven't wasted any time," Shepard agreed as she sat, "but to some, it still never seems fast enough, our reach not broad or long enough." She felt a faint burn along the back of her neck as she imagined the concern and debates her return must be causing back at the Citadel and on Arcturus.

Tucking her fingers under her thighs, the captain leaned forward, feeling awkward and vulnerable as she admitted, "I was supposed to be the next step forward, the chance for the Alliance to prove that we could serve as Spectres." She rocked forward a touch, fighting the urge to leap up and pace. "Now look at me, shouting into the wind trying to get the galaxy to listen, and still, ninety-nine point nine percent of the galaxy hasn't even heard of Reapers."

Trea sank a little lower into the cushions, a graceful shrug tilting across her shoulders. "You'd be surprised, I think. While people aren't talking about it on the street, behind closed doors they're asking, what if? And they're frightened." The tarin shook her head, a tremor so slight it could have been a palsy. "By denying it so vehemently, the council is actually helping you along." Shifting in her chair, Trea leaned back and closed her eyes.

"Should we head in?" Shepard asked. The tarin's weariness came on with unsettling swiftness, leaving Shepard to wonder if Trea hadn't suffered a small, focal seizure during her upset.

"No." Trea smiled and hunkered down into her blanket. "I'm comfortable here." The piercing blue of her stare shone from beneath heavily-lidded eyes. "Thank you for your intercession earlier. I know they love me and that they mean the very best. I also know that they can't help worrying, but neither can I help how angry it makes me to be treated like an invalid, coddled and placated." She tugged her blanket around herself and lifted her feet up onto the seat. "I can't even stand the word ... invalid. As if your illness negates your validity as a person … deleting the person you were before you fell sick."

Trea took a long breath, easing down into the cushions as her eyes drifted closed again. "But, thank you. Solana was correct. When I get upset, my chances of having a seizure are greatly increased." Her eyes blinked open as a shudder raced down her slight frame, the terror the seizures evoked clearly showing even in that split second.

Shepard leaned forward, pulling her fingers from beneath her thighs to rest her elbows on her knees. "Have I done the right thing encouraging Garrus to get you out and active in the resistance?" she asked. "Have I coaxed him into accelerating your illness?"

The tarin shook her head, her eyes remaining closed that time. "It will progress regardless. Perhaps exercising my mind will help it stave off neural death. Perhaps it won't." She yawned. "The day will dawn, however, when I am unable to control my muscles, when I suffer multiple seizures a day, when paranoia and memory loss steal my personality and my family." Her eyelids squeezed tight, as if she fought to keep from opening them, meeting Shepard's gaze and revealing the extent to which her future terrified her.

"I watched it steal my mari far too soon," she said, her voice so soft that the raindrops spattering against the canopy nearly drowned it out. "I would stay myself as long as I can."

A few moments of silence followed, the tarin's breathing revealing that she slipped into sleep.

"Kahri," Garrus called, appearing in the doorway. "Adrien's here, and he brought a guest." He stepped over a flowerbed to crouch next to his mother's seat. "She's sleeping?"

Shepard nodded, but held up a hand when he moved to pick his mari up. "She said she was comfortable there. Maybe just get another blanket so she doesn't chill?" She stood, picked up the small cushion from her seat, and eased it under the tarin's head. "If she's comfortable, we might as well let her enjoy the nap."

Garrus nodded and headed back inside, returning a moment later with a gorgeous, thick, handwoven blanket in his talons. Shepard watched him tuck it around his mari's thin form, the tenderness in his movements wrapping a tight hand around her throat.

When he hesitated, clearly unsure about leaving Trea to sleep in the cool and damp, Shepard reached out to stroke his fringe. "We'll keep an eye on her, Callor." She stood and pulled him up, wrapping her arms around his waist when he straightened. "You're a wonderful son."

He hugged her tight. "I wasted so much time, Kahri."

She nodded and looked up, meeting his eyes. "I know, but you're here now and doing the best you can for her." A soft smile answered his grumble. "I wish the galaxy got to see this side of turians more often. The whole war nerd reputation does you such an injustice."

His chuckle snapped like brittle twigs. "We work very hard to keep them from seeing this side. Any perceived weakness is a front to attack."

Shepard pulled away. "Weakness." A sharp cough of disdain barked from her throat. She slapped his chest. "This is your strength." Pulling free of his arms, she stepped around him, moving to hop over the flower bed, her legs not quite long enough to just step over. Before she made good her escape, a hand gripped her shoulder.

Chuckling again, this time with warmth, Garrus pulled her back into his arms. "All right, warrior goddess, I'm sorry." He nuzzled the top of her head. "You've always been my strength."

Only partially placated, Shepard pulled out of his arms, but took his hand. "Come on, let's get the business done while she sleeps." They took the long route around the flower bed to the door.

Shepard stepped over the threshold and looked toward the front door, stopping so suddenly that her toe squeaked over the tile.

Sweet baby Jesus, it's the turian Odd Couple.

Just inside the domin's front door, two torins spoke to Herros. One stood just over a hand shorter than Garrus, slight and agile-looking in light, Phantom armour. Sweeping, cream-coloured familia notas covered a silver face, and a bright, amber gaze turned to regard her when she started forward again.

The other torin was the largest Shepard had ever seen. He towered a good head above Garrus, and was broad to match: a veritable wall of richly clothed turian. Dark green familia notas gleamed against obsidian plates, and when he turned to face her, violet-blue eyes regarded her with suspicion and more than a little disdain. Sizing him up, Shepard knew two things instantly: she was about to meet Palaven's primarch, and she needed to find the old Shepard to deal with him.

She cast Garrus a quick. apologetic glance, fairly sure he'd have enough kittens before the primarch's visit ended that they'd need to open an animal shelter..

Herros turned and held out a hand to introduce them, but Fedorian just stepped forward into Shepard's space, looking down on her like a stalking panther.

"There's no need for pleasantries, Vakarian," the primarch said. "I know who they are." That gaze of iron and shackles turned on Garrus. "General Garrus Vakarian." Disdain oozed over Garrus's rank, dripping from it like tar sludge. "What authority granted you so august a rank?"

Tension pulled the air taut as Garrus straightened, hardening enough to have been chiselled from marble. "The only authority I recognize as having the power to grant it, Primarch: my troops."

Shepard covered a wide grin with a swipe of her hand, but the movement closed the jaws of Fedorian's stare on her. Ouch, more like a bear trap than shackles. She cocked an eyebrow at him. If he thought he could intimidate her with a stare, this was going to be a lot more fun than she'd first anticipated.

Bring it on, bad ass politician. Bring it on.

"Jane Shepard," he said, his tone saying that she'd already been measured and found wanting. "Former Spectre, Alliance captain, and corpse according to public record." He clasped his hands behind his back and arched his neck a little as he stepped closer, an avalanche poised over her.

Shepard turned her head to show the massive scar across the bottom third of her head. "Former corpse is accurate. I died sixteen months or so ago. I've had a pulse and viable neural activity again for less than a year." Meeting his stare, she cocked her head a little, posing a challenge but keeping it subtle.

He chuffed, and tilted his head so that he looked down his nose at her. "And I'm supposed to believe you returned from the dead?" Although Shepard couldn't understand his subvocals directly, the fury that flared through both Garrus and Nihlus translated the primarch's derision well enough.

She sliced the air between them with a razor-sharp laugh. ""Believe whatever you like, Primarch. I don't really care. Your belief doesn't affect me in the slightest." Her shrug came off with an even keener edge than the laugh. She closed on him a little, but not enough to have to crane her neck. Damn, he was tall. "I'm not here to convince you of anything. In fact, I'm not here to convince anyone of anything. There simply isn't time, and my bones won't stand up to beating myself against the galaxy's determination to prove me wrong."

As if to prove her point, Shepard backed up a step. "I came here to visit my dilan's family and to meet with General Victus. If you're here, someone thinks you'll prove useful to me in the fight." She felt Garrus stiffen, but didn't acknowledge his discomfort. "If that's true, great, but this bus only has seats for useful people." She waggled her head a little. "If they possess a few points of open-minded IQ, that doesn't hurt either, but mostly I just need them to have a use."

She turned away and paced to the caman, staring into the glowing coals for a moment, not quite willing to push the envelope into backing up beeping sounds territory. She turned back, a little surprised to see that his aggression level hadn't risen in the slightest. Interesting. She'd thought he'd be easier to push. "If you want to believe that I faked my death, or that Reapers are just figments of my imagination, that's fine."

Fedorian seemed to grow, a shadow stretching up a wall, but at the same time some of the arrogance bled from his stare. "Only a great fool rejects anything out of hand," he said, his voice deep and stolid, tectonic plates ground alongside one another with less friction. "I am not a great fool, but neither will I allow wild, unsupported claims to terrify my people. If you have proof, offer it. If not … " He shrugged, the gesture feeling like a landslide. "... you'll find I have no tolerance for ill-mannered grandstanding."

Damn, he's got your number, doesn't he?

Looking past the primarch, Shepard packed down the wide grin that struggled to spread across her face and strode over to the general standing in Fedorian's shadow. She cleared her throat before speaking. "General Victus, it's a pleasure to meet you." She reached out to grip his wrists. "I regretted that our paths didn't cross while you were on leave on Omega."

The general's mandibles flicked once, hard. He inclined his head, gracious but reserved. "As did I, Captain."

She tightened her grip for a second before releasing him and stepping back. "Thank you, so much for helping liberate my family and the other slaves. Are you recovering from the Collector ambush?"

He nodded, drawing himself taller and squaring his shoulders as if to deny any lingering weakness. Shepard nodded, understanding. Any weakness presented a front to attack. "Fit enough to ward off a squad of assassins that I'm certain were sent by either Collectors or the Reapers themselves."

Fedorian chuffed, but Shepard's gaze didn't leave Victus. She nodded toward the garden door.

"Come have a look at what just broke in here." She led the way out into the garden, but kept back away from the turian husks. "Is that what came after you, General?" Despite speaking to Victus, Shepard kept her eyes fixed on Fedorian. Maybe, just maybe, she'd pinned down his game, and it wasn't one so different from her own. Come in, act the arrogant ass, get everyone's backs up and see what shook loose.

The expression of horror that ghosted across the primarch's face when he looked down at the turian husks gave her some hope that he might not prove completely impossible to convince of the threat. He covered it over almost immediately, but she could see him working the problem, his eyes narrow and shadowed, mandibles not held quite as high and tight.

"Yes," Victus answered. "Identical, and they were equipped with Phaestons." He turned to Shepard. "You faced asari husk constructs on Thessia?"

Shepard opened her omnitool and brought up the vid of the lowest chamber. "At least a hundred thousand strong—all held in stasis—and the machinery for performing the transformation. In a chamber above, we encountered another machine designed to break down and analyze lifeforms. The Collectors have spent the last fifty thousand years analyzing us and figuring out how best to turn us into nightmares." She played the vid of the possessed Collector, letting its words confirm that the Reapers were building armies to sweep over the homeworlds before a defense could be mounted.

Victus nodded, his expression telling her that she'd confirmed exactly what he'd been afraid of. "When I saw that the assassins had guns taken from our military … ." A fierce rumbled rolled from his throat. He clenched his jaw and turned his back to the husks, a bulwark built of resolution and challenge rather than denial. "What that creature said confirms that the Collectors and Reapers are doing the same thing on Palaven: they're stealing our people and turning them into monsters."

At Shepard's nod, the general turned on his primarch. "The evidence is spread out before you, Fedorian." Suddenly the smaller torin's presence and command dwarfed the primarch's. "It's not a matter of believing myself, General Vakarian, or Captain Shepard. Turians do not allow such malignancy to fester beneath their own skin. We hunt it down and excise it with both expediency and prejudice."

Herros stepped forward, every bit the officer in charge. Shepard grinned. Damn she loved turians; walls of honourable stone, the entire lot of them.

The hierarch cleared his throat. "You and I have been friends since we were peririn, Fedorian. If nothing else, you know and trust me."

At the edge of her peripherals, Shepard saw Garrus stiffen, his hand lifting to his ear. Without saying anything, he turned and walked back into the domin, shutting the door behind him. Judging by the set of his shoulders and neck, she suspected that, whatever news he received was not good news. She turned back to the silent conversation taking place around her.

Fedorian's concern about the husks having appeared in two locations waged a subtle war across his face and through his posture, fighting with his obvious distaste for legitimizing the rabble rousing element. At last, he turned to Victus. "You believe these things are being created somewhere on Palaven?"

The turian general straightened to attention and nodded. "I do, Primarch."

"Then hunt them down and destroy them, General." He turned his back to Victus before he even finished speaking, as if to say that he still didn't believe a word that came out of their mouths, but he remained magnanimous enough to allow them to prove themselves.

Shepard pressed her lips tight to keep the smirk off her face, meeting his glare with one that sparked like a shorting power coupling.

Primarch Fedorian, you're an asshole. But ... you're my kind of asshole.

A curt nod dismissed her before the primarch stepped around the flowerbed, moving over to crouch next to Trea, speaking to the tarin in hushed, gentle tones. Seeing that the Vakarians and Fedorian possessed a deep, long-lived friendship gave Shepard hope for their ability to negotiate what they needed from the primarch over time. And, as much as she hated to use it, Trea's illness would be a soft spot they could press to prepare the planet for invasion.

"Captain?" Victus stepped between Shepard and her contemplation of shamelessly exploiting the Vakarian's friendship with the primarch. "Any information you gathered on Thessia could prove invaluable in my search."

"Absolutely. If you find a likely candidate and want some backup that has already fallen into the traps you're facing, let me know." She sent him all the scans, vid files, and logs. "We were lucky we dropped the mountain on that place before they started waking up the banshees." She stepped around him and gestured to the husks on the ground. "These didn't appear to have any biotic abilities like the asari husks, but the fact they use weapons concerns me. In addition, two of these spoke to Trea and I, which shows at least some capacity for higher mental function."

"Command and control?" he asked, whispering as if holding the question up for his own scrutiny rather than asking her. His eyes narrowed. "They spoke? What did they say?" The general crouched down next to the ex-turian corpses, looking them over as she explained about their earlier encounter.

Garrus returned from inside, the set of his face as grim as she'd ever seen it. When he stepped up beside her, she raised her eyebrows in a silent question. He answered with a tilt of his head that said he'd update her once fewer ears listened in.

"The husk recited from a myth?" Victus asked, pushing off his knees. He rolled his shoulders and tugged at the collar of his armour as he turned to face her. "Residual knowledge blurted out by some random neural firing?"

Shepard met his skepticism with a nod. She understood it. "We're playing with a theory that the protheans embedded clues—help to fight the Reapers—in the stories of our early people." Her brow furrowed as she saw something register behind the turian general's eyes. "Sir? Something about that ring a bell?"

His mandibles fluttered and dropped a little as he chuckled, a low rumble that sounded more embarrassed than anything. "A tale my mari told me as a child about a group of adventurers who found a temple dedicated to an ancient goddess. I don't recall most of it, just that the goddess helped defeat a great darkness, so our people swore a vow to maintain her temple in case the darkness returned." Sardonic amusement changed to a grim sort of determination, and he let out a long, heavy breath. "Well, my mari has been asking me to visit more often."

"Temple Palaven," Nihlus said, stepping out through the door, Solana following close on his heels. "Saren never told me what happened there, but I know he dropped it on top of Desolas and a whole lot of nothing good."

Solana stepped into their circle. Compared to the torins, Garrus's sister seemed small and slight, even in her armour, but she still towered over Shepard by a good thirty centimetres. "Those ruins are sealed off. It would take a mountain of paperwork for even the Hierarchy's most trusted to gain access to the exterior, and even then, they'd never get clearance to excavate." Her stormy sea-blue eyes pinned Shepard. "The likes of you four? Never happen. They'd arrest you for looking at the site from space."

The corner of Shepard's mouth drew back in a crooked grin as she nodded. "Probably just for thinking about it." She frowned and jutted her chin at Victus, seeing a thought pass across his face, an illuminating ray of light. "General?"

He cleared his throat, his brow plates angling toward his nose. "Temple Palaven is too recent for what I'm thinking. We're looking for something a great deal older." The general shifted to stand at ease despite there being nothing easy or relaxed about him. He looked to Nihlus. "You likely know more than I do about what happened, but judging by what I know, Desolas Arterius chose Temple Palaven because it was at the eye of a population center. Whatever he did there, it drew in thousands of people within hours. That's generally the sort of mistake made by the badly informed or over-eager."

Garrus chuffed. "That makes a sort of sense. Saren was indoctrinated slowly, completely." He looked down at Shepard a half shrug rolling across his shoulders, dropping in time with a rumbled sigh. "We've seen indoctrination take a lot of different turns. Maybe whatever started the process on Saren hit his brother with a much stronger dose and sent Desolas off on a campaign outside of the Reapers' timetable."

Shepard opened her mouth to agree, but didn't get a chance as Nihlus rumbled: low, dangerous, and deep in his throat. The sound raked talons down her back and sent a queasy sort of shudder through her guts as she heard the fragility Garrus had talked about creeping beneath it.

The Spectre stepped away from their little circle as he crossed his arms and leaned back on one hip. "I need to track the last couple of cycles of Saren's life. There have to be records or clues as to what happened during those years. He was far too methodical and regimented to leave nothing behind." He looked from one to the other, ending with Shepard. "I was headed to Illium anyway. It's time to pack up my apartment and move everything to Omega." He nodded as if that were decided. "No better place to start. Saren left a lot behind when he took off."

"Sounds like your path is decided for the next few days," Shepard agreed, despite not liking the thought of him out dealing with his past and Saren on his own. She needed to send someone with him, maybe a couple of someones. She could squeeze the protection detail in under the 'none of us should be doing anything on our own with the Collectors gunning for us' clause.

"We also have ours set out for us," Garrus said. He tipped his head toward the domin, reminding her of his earlier call. "Wrex received a call for help from a krogan warlord. The Collectors are attacking his base on Korlus." He shrugged. "Wrex will meet us at the spaceport in the morning."

Shepard just nodded. They could discuss the rest of the details later. She'd send word to Miranda, have the operative bring the Ypres to Korlus after dropping Thane off on Illium. Her jaw muscles clenched in a rictus as Shepard imagined Garrus's reaction to working with Miranda, but she wanted to keep an eye on as much of Cerberus as she could. Miranda was a tight link to the Illusive Man, one she couldn't afford to throw away in a temper tantrum, control chip or no. She'd deal with both of them eventually.

Victus smiled. "I'll make my dear old mari's week and go visit her. Not much makes her happier than telling her stories." The grin faded to a thoughtful frown, revealing the wheels whirring inside his skull. "I'll drag my eldest pahir along with me, just in case. None of us can afford to be overly open with information, but neither can we keep too tight a grip on it." She saw the reality of the battle against Collectors and Reapers appear, written in the shadows shuttering his stare.

Shepard looked up at Garrus, smiling as those ice-chip eyes met hers. He'd been her backup from the first. "Yes, we all need to make sure that whatever we discover makes it back to the group."

"And what about me?" Solana asked, spine rigid, talons clenched in preparation for a fight. Shepard neither blamed nor envied her. Team Overprotective proved a daunting foe. The tarin shook her head even as Garrus opened his mouth. "No! You told me I could come and work with Archangel weeks ago." A thin, furious pike, she leaned forward, digging in and setting herself to drive deep if refused. Glancing over at Nihlus, she threw her hands up. "Well? Say something. He listens to you."

"None of us should go anywhere alone," Shepard said, throwing herself into the path of the burgeoning family drama and praying she didn't get mowed down. "I'm going to have Thane meet Nihlus on Illium, but it certainly couldn't hurt to have another set of eyes watching his back." She speared the Spectre with a glare, warning him that he was in for a fight if he tried to go out alone. When Nihlus nodded, accepting his squad, Shepard turned her attention to Garrus.

Her love's entire body telegraphed his unease with the amount of risk his family faced. Her fingers twitched, itching to wrap around his talons, but theirs was hardly the audience for public displays of affection. After a moment, Garrus nodded, his neck moving like rusted iron.

"General Victus," Fedorian called as he strode past, heading for the door, "I'm prepared to leave."

Victus chuckled softly. "Good hunting to you all. I'll check in with Archangel as soon as I have any leads." He spun on his talons and followed after the primarch, but without any undue hurry.

Shepard slipped her hand into Garrus's once the front door closed behind their guests. "I suppose a family meeting is in order? Get all our ducks lined up before tomorrow morning?"

Garrus pulled her in tight against his side and wrapped his arm around her. "The universe seems determined to ensure that we never catch our breath." A long, grumbling sigh ruffled her hair as he bent down to nuzzle the top of her head. "It feels as though the last few flakes are landing on the edge of the avalanche, and it's about to let go of the mountainside."

Shepard shook her head, regret drifting through the grey morning, a slow, misty melancholy. "We're in it, now, Callor. It's all about skiing fast enough to keep ahead of disaster until the war's over. Then, we'll all retire to a private island somewhere and tell absolutely no one where we live." That thought brightened the gloom a little. Long mornings spent curled in bed, no one banging at their door. A little adventuring here and there, as the spirit and stir-craziness moved them. All the time in the galaxy to just be together.

She wrapped both arms around Garrus's waist and looked over at Nihlus. In the end, all that mattered was defeating the Reapers, putting the war behind them, and coming through with her torins at her side.

Solana clapped her hands together, a single, sharp sound that broke through Shepard's thoughts. A wide, cocky grin set her elegant mandibles fluttering as she looked to each of them, then nudged Nihlus in the ribs hard enough that he grunted. "Well, what are we waiting for, senux? Let's get this war started."

(A-N: The last snowflakes have fallen, the mountainside shudders, a low roar echoes through the silence. :) The villagers begin to shriek and run around, arms flailing! Ahhhhh! We're all going to diiiieeeeee!

Thanks as always for reading. You lovely, amazing crazies who weigh in on the chapters … can't even express how much it means to me to hear from you. To the silent readers … so glad you're still there, still reading. Hopefully, still enjoying. All the love and hugs.)