Garrus stood alone outside, leaning his imposing frame against a gnarly yet shady tree. It was what he now considered to be the typical Rannoch tree (at least around these parts): not overly tall, sturdy, but a little…scraggly. Still, it served a purpose.

He retrieved the message on his omnitool again. It was a short, simple message. Nothing to it, really. Just a couple of sentences, only a few lines of text.

But it bothered him greatly.

It was a message from Primarch Victus, asking if Garrus had an idea when he would return to Palaven. It was 14 hours old.

"Spirits know we could all use the help, Vakarian."

His mandibles flared in a queer mix of annoyance and desperation. "Spirits, what am I supposed to do?" The sigh that he released made him realize that this particular invocation of the spirits wasn't a simple exclamation. This time, well, he was serious. If there were any spirits, even around this unfamiliar place, he could sure use the help.

And things had been going so well, he thought. He and Kasumi were mostly past the slightly awkward "didn't we used to be a thing" stage, and had started to reconnect. They danced around the topic of the war if they could help it, of course, which only left topics of the mundane left fit for purpose. Which meant gossip.

A lot of gossip.

Kasumi told him that Traynor and Julie Wellington, the nice engineer that had replaced Tali, were a "thing" now. Apparently her father had been a dentist. When Garrus had nearly choked on the brandy he was drinking, she had asked him what was so funny.

"Ask Traynor about how we got onto the Normandy during shore leave." And he'd simply left it at that, the jerk.

Also, Ashley liked to sing in the shower, now that the captain's cabin was hers.

"Wait - she didn't know that -?"

"That it isn't soundproof? No, I guess not."

But they'd also tried to reengage in activities that they'd done before the war - before Garrus had forced her hand. Namely, meditation.

It had come as quite a surprise to Kasumi when, while on the SR-2, he had asked if she would join him for zazen. She had looked at him blankly, disbelieving what she was certain that she'd heard correctly. He was a turian, how did he know about Zen? And meditation?

It was during these recent meditation sessions that he'd gained an immense appreciation for the quiet, natural beauty of his friends' new home. Instead of billions, there were but millions of inhabitants. Instead of a teeming, planet-wide metropolis, there were but a few settlements - and even those weren't as populated as they could have been. Rannoch was unlike any other "settled" world that he'd ever been to. He didn't care for the unfortunate circumstances that had led to the planet's natural solitude, but he was appreciative just the same. Which allowed for meditation that was quite effective.

He found that his mind was sharpest after these sessions. Clearing his mind, emptying it had a way of focusing his thoughts in excruciatingly sharp detail. They stood out like bas-relief. Which was great, but also maddening given the current circumstances.

He'd realized that he wasn't so sure he was as much of a fan of this post-Reaper existence as he thought he should be. Obviously, he was more than relieved that a galactic genocide had been averted, but on a personal level, he found that he was fucking terrible at this.

By "this", he meant living life with freedom. Things were so much easier when Shepard could just give him a target to hit, an enemy to destroy. He was good at that. Damn good, in fact (even if Shepard had lost their little wager on purpose, which he highly suspected). For a while. thinking on his feet and leading like Shepard had, showed him that leading was satisfying, too. He was proud of his team and their work on Omega.

But Shepard had told him an old human proverb once: "Pride cometh before the fall". His first reaction was to ask if he'd heard the commander correctly. "What the hell is 'cometh', Shepard?"

He'd laughed a little. "It's just an old English term for 'come'. I guess I could've just said that pride comes before a fall."

Sure enough, the rug had been pulled from underneath him then. Pride, meet Fall. Much like now, in a strange way.

After all, in his heart of hearts, he'd never expected to still be alive; he'd expected to be having a drink or three with his commander, hoping that they'd indeed outrun the devil.

Perhaps that was why he'd forced their separation in the first place?

Sure, he had told her that they needed to focus on the war - and he specifically had to get Palaven prepared - but perhaps beneath his conscious mind, he'd already resigned himself.

The turian sighed, because fate is not without a sense of irony, it would seem. For not only had he survived, but Shepard had as well, despite the two of them being well-prepared for a little self-sacrifice if that's what it would've taken. The unfortunate side to survival?

He had to make decisions he'd not anticipated having to make.

Just what was he going to tell Kasumi?

Still leaning against this most gracious Rannochian tree, he'd caught Liara as she was heading out of camp toward the city. Calling out to her, he'd asked if she knew where Kasumi was.

"Garrus, she can make herself invisible at any time. I imagine that if she had wanted anyone to know her whereabouts, she would have said something."

She hadn't even bothered to approach him. Hell, she had still been walking away from him as she answered.

Just where the hell was she going?

He'd mumbled some half-hearted thanks in reply, knowing that she was correct.

But Kasumi hadn't answered a vaguely cryptic message he'd sent to her, either. With a huff, the turian decided then to head into the city as well. He didn't necessarily have a specific destination in mind, he just wanted to stretch, pull, and turn over the nagging thoughts in his mind. What would he say? What would she say? Would it be the end of -

Before he knew it, he was back at the base with the Malinor. Lost in thought, he hadn't realized that he'd let his feet do the real thinking for him, and they'd decided on a peculiar destination. The light shone and sparkled off its hull, and he couldn't help but smile. But then, he saw that the internal lights were on - the ship was powered up to more than just the standby mode that he'd left it in.

There was someone inside, and he was certain that its occupant was precisely the woman that he had been searching for. If they'd known, nobody (least of all himself) would have been surprised to learn that Garrus was filled with trepidation and anticipation over the prospect of how this was likely going to go.

His guess?

Badly.

"Ku sotsu," the young woman muttered to herself.

Kasumi was sitting alone in the lounge, sipping a cup of green tea with a small OSD sitting atop a gently wrapped package. Her long, nimble fingers still trembled sometimes as her nerves warranted, and they were shaking ever so slightly right now. The tea was hot against her skin, almost to the point of scalding, but she ignored this. The pain was actually…welcomed? But she set the cup down again anyway, running those same trembling fingers through her straight black hair and exhaling uncertainly.

She tapped the package absentmindedly, smiling as she imagined what their reactions would be to it. She'd already accessed the OSD, of course, and had smiled at Jacob's message for her, as well as the fact that he'd also left one for Shepard. He'd said that her "stash" was still safe, and that he would keep an eye on it for as long as she needed him to, if he was able.

It was a relief, of course. Both her stash and Jacob's kindness. She had paid him handsomely for not only safeguarding it, but to also help him and his family out. It wasn't a big deal, she had plenty, but it still felt good to help. He was always so thoughtful, she thought. Even if he had been kinda boring; straight-laced, even. He had certainly been too straight-laced for her liking, physical attributes aside. But she was grateful for the man just the same, and thankful that he and his budding family were well.

"Family…" she muttered softly.

Would she ever have one again? It was something of a sticking point as she attempted to process these first few weeks of relative peace. So many of her friends from both before - and now after - the war might have qualified for such a title. Of course, it didn't hurt that those same people had all felt "family" sized holes in their own hearts, some for far longer than she had, which gave them a bond of a kind. It was one she had rather hoped to have done without, but sometimes she thought that it was worth the price of admission.

She got up, gracefully as always - the shaking had not escalated past her hands, it seemed. Taking a few steps toward the main area but staying within the confines of the kitchen, she recalled how Garrus had simply held her as she spilled sadness and white hot tears all over her illusion of calmness. She was good at a great many things - damn good, in fact - but watching people that she'd worked alongside freeze to death one by one in what was decidedly a hopeless situation was perhaps a step too far for her.

She took another sip of tea.

Witnessing David succumb to such a fate after he'd given her what protection against the elements he'd had left was the final straw. She'd watched him freeze - die - like all the others, leaving her alone with just her frozen, desperate thoughts that had swiftly become the thoughts of someone who was not only losing her mind, but also the will to live. She should probably seek help for -

"Thought I might find you here."

"Shit!" Kasumi whirled around to see Garrus as she tried to fight off the sudden cat-like fear that had gripped her heart. The crashing of her cup of tea brought her attention to the floor, looking blankly at the shattered pieces scattered upon it. They swam in the hot brown liquid that she'd been banking on to calm her.

"Spirits, 'Sumi! I'm sorry! Here, I'll get it." Garrus swiftly and deftly moved through the kitchen, grabbing a towel and a vacuum. As for Kasumi, she did not respond to his words nor his movement. She had her eyes trained on the remnants of the liquid, watching it spread across the floor like so much watered-down blood. Moving from the tea itself, her wide eyes instead focused on so many shattered pieces of faux porcelain. Even after they had disappeared from sight, her eyes remained there. It reminded her too much of -

Two hands gently gripped her shoulders, shaking her softly as those hands tried to bring her eyes to their owner.

"Hey, Kasumi. It's alright. I'm sorry I startled you. Do you want to sit down?" He asked her this softly, trying to comfort her in this clear moment that had provided pristine evidence that Miss Kasumi Goto was not yet all right.

She nodded her head, trying to ignore the pounding of her blood in her ears.

Her…boyfriend?…sat across from her, holding her hands in his.

For Garrus's part, while holding her hands, he tried to think of something that would crack the ice, if he couldn't actually break it. With a quick glance, he noticed the curious package and the OSD that rested atop it.

"So what's that on the table? Anything important?"

After a moment's hesitation, it struck Kasumi that she'd been spoken to. "Hmm? Oh that?" A camouflaging smile actually formed as she casually pointed a thumb in the direction of the table. She couldn't help herself. The smile, for a moment, felt natural and easy.

Garrus thought that it not only hid her pain, but it actually radiated a little bit of happiness.

He chuckled at her response. "Yes, 'Sumi. That."

She returned her eyes to his. "That, Mister Vakarian, is for me to know and no one else to find out about," she cocked a half-smirk, it was the same one that Garrus had seen on Shepard spirits knew how many times. Were all humans like that? "Until the right time."

"And when is the 'right time'?"

"Don't worry, Garrus. Soon."

"And the OSD?"

"Full of questions, aren't you?"

"Yes, Miss Goto. I am."

"I'll answer that one, free of charge. It's from Jacob. He did me a favor which I returned in kind. So he sent me a little message, along with a…more substantial one for a certain human admiral of our acquaintance."

"Hmm. I'm glad they're doing okay."

The air was suddenly thick with tension as silence descended like slow-moving clouds. The uncertainty, the awkwardness, had returned.

"Garrus, we need to -"

"Can we -"

They both chuckled awkwardly. Kasumi gestured that he should go first.

Steeling himself with a deep breath, Garrus Vakarian, full-time citizen of the Turian Hierarchy and man who keeps his word, prepared to deliver a veritable hammer blow.

Her finger hesitated over the button of the doorchime. Unbelievably, it was shaking a little. Her hesitation gave her just enough time to second guess this idea. It was too late to turn back now though, she thought, that much seemed obvious. She was standing 26 levels above the ground - or about 150 meters - and a gust of wind blew against her, pressing the warm air against her blue skin. It was pleasant, Liara thought, despite the heat. Glancing behind her, she decided that it was still pleasant…despite the height and heat.

Of course, she'd been to desert - or desert-like - planets before, but this was different. Her soul, or spirit, or whatever, said so. Maybe it was a case of sentimentality - "embracing eternity" and all that - that caused her to feel this way even now. After all, her dearest friends were here, and Rannoch conceivably provided her with a unique opportunity. It was one which she hoped that Zaal'Koris would be able to help her with, as odd as that sounded.

It was odd, she thought, because while in a technical sense the admiralty was currently sharing responsibility with the Conclave, it was Zaal'Koris who had overseen so much of Rannoch's day-to-day operation. What would he think of her, being so presumptuous? Would he deny her request out-of-hand? After all, she was an outsider. And unlike Shepard, she wasn't bonded to a quarian admiral with a hefty amount of collateral. It all made her rather…uneasy. But there was a phrase that she'd picked up from Shepard…

"Nothing ventured, nothing gained," she whispered aloud. Liara inhaled deeply, steeling herself. "Well, here we go."

She pressed the button - more forcefully than she needed too - and let out an unsteady breath.

She was not surprised that, after she faintly heard a chime from beyond the door, she heard the voice of its occupant emanate from the intercom next to said door.

"Is that you, Dr. T'Soni?" The voice was definitely Koris's, and he sounded almost…welcoming.

"Yes, it is, Admiral Koris. May I enter?"

"Yes, of course. The door is unlocked."

Her wide eyes blinked a few times as if she was surprised that she had gotten a response at all, let alone a positive one. Perhaps luck would be on her side today, after all. Tapping the adjacent button, she entered.

Liara stepped into what, in her estimation, amounted to the foyer. She glanced around, struck by the gray walls that were illuminated by the pale blue lighting at the base where they met the floor. This struck her as curious; she'd not seen the inside of a quarian home that was located in one of the great towers that the Geth had managed to preserve. To say that it was impressive was a wild understatement. This building, which had been constructed at least 300 years earlier, would have easily rivaled - at least in design - to any modern building on Thessia or Illium. She winced slightly at the thought of her badly wounded homeworld, but pressed on nevertheless. After the floor lighting and the smooth walls, the next thing that Liara noticed was the large painting hanging in what she presumed to be the main living area. She took a few meaningful steps toward it, wanting to study it. Whatever the scene depicted, it was old, likely from before the diaspora. There were, to her eye anyway, at least a dozen uncovered quarians gathered around a lagoon that was stationed below a stunted waterfall, she thought. She considered the nature of the Rannoch environment and wondered where something like that might be located. She supposed she shouldn't be surprised that -

"Do you like it, Dr. T'Soni?"

The sound of Zaal'Koris's voice made her jump slightly, as she almost involuntarily began to channel biotic energy. Closing her eyes and with a quick breath, she steadied herself again. If Zaal had noticed the slight blue tinge that had begun to emanate around her hands, he did not immediately mention it.

Liara looked at him uncertainly and with embarrassment. "Oh. I, uh…yes, admiral. I like it very much."

He gave her a slight nod. "Good. Well, I apologize for startling you. I did not -"

She looked down at her feet before looking back to him. "You did not startle me. I just -"

"Hmm. That is a lie, Dr. T'Soni. We both know that. The war was hard on all of us, but I know it was especially hard for those of you who were on the front line." He extended a hand. "And I know what channeling one's biotics looks like." She shook his hand in kind.

"Yes, well…I apologize again, admiral. Force of habit." Shrugging her shoulders, she chuckled awkwardly.

"Hmm, yes. I imagine that it will be one that will take time to grow out of, if it happens at all." He cleared his throat. "I noticed you were looking at the painting. What do you think?"

She cocked her head, slightly confused. "Think, sir?"

Zaal chuckled. "Of the painting, doctor. It was something of a hobby I picked up while out on Pilgrimage."

"You painted this?"

So it wasn't nearly as old as she had thought.

"Mmhmm."

"Well, it's lovely, actually. I was wondering if it was a location here. On Rannoch, I mean. I've obviously not seen much of it and…" she trailed off, blushing furiously. She wasn't the only one who hadn't seen "much" of Rannoch.

Damn it.

He sniffed a small chuckle. "If you were worried about offending, please don't trouble yourself. I'm a quarian admiral, which means I've traded in insults and innuendo my entire career. I know you meant no offense." He gestured toward the painting again. "As for this? Well, your guess is as good as mine. I found the picture in an old book that I'd bought - saved it to my omnitool - and well, it just stayed with me, I guess. I added the quarians myself. Something like visualizing a dream, I suppose. I was quite surprised when Pomii suggested that I put it here." He paused, apparently thinking for a moment. "I simply thought she only placated me because it made me happy to paint. Maybe she actually does like it."

Liara smiled softly at him. She liked the idea that his mate would be supportive of his little joy. "Perhaps she does, admiral. And would it matter either way?"

"Oh, please. Call me Zaal, doctor."

"Well, call me 'Liara' then, sir."

"Very well. And to answer your question, no, it would not matter. Now Liara, what can I do for you?"

She shuffled uneasily. "Well, I…had a favor to ask. As you know, Tali and Shepard are staying here and well…" She had to stop herself. What was she supposed to say to him, to explain her reasoning? "I don't…ah, Goddess, what am I doing?" She put her hand up to her face, hiding in embarrassment. As for Zaal, he lifted his head, as if putting pieces of a puzzle together. "What I mean is…" she huffed again. "And while I know that there is, well what I mean to say is that the galaxy is in such a bad state…but I don't want…"

Goddess, why could she not just say it?

The admiral nodded slightly in understanding, but kept his distance. "Liara, I get the feeling - both from this and from the last time you were here with them - that this kind of…directness does not come naturally to you, at least not in this setting." He extended a hand in the general direction of a couple of chairs that faced the painting. "Please, have a seat. And tell me what it is that you're asking."

She sat down first, smoothing the light fabric of her pants. When the admiral sat across from her, she tried a different approach that perhaps suited her better than the blunt force she'd attempted at first.

"Did you know that I was once an archaeologist?"

He shook his head.

"Yes, well it was actually my first profession. And my first love, before all of…this happened. Before I met Shepard and Tali. I used to enjoy the sense of discovery. I almost felt…well, not 'almost', I did feel a certain pride in discovering the past."

"And why was that, Liara?"

She did not even have to think about an answer. "Well, because there's something wonderful about rediscovery, Zaal." She leaned forward now, elbows on her knees as she gestured animatedly. "It's something very special. You see, unlike say, a scientific discovery which was previously unknown, an archaeological one is about bringing back what once was known." Liara paused, eyes widening at the implication that she hadn't dared speak when thinking about this meeting. "What once…was known and then lost. It's…maybe it is about bringing the dead back to life, if even in a small way."

"That's an interesting perspective, Liara." Zaal couldn't quite put his finger on why this asari, with her peculiar personality, was making him become very emotional. He cleared his throat, trying to remove the constriction found there. "So what were you working on before meeting Tali and Shepard?"

A small smile crossed her face, but her eyes conveyed a sadness as well. "Four years ago? I was actually working at a Prothean dig site on Therum…"

"So that's it then? No actual discussion, no conversation? Just 'Hi Kasumi, I'm going back to Palaven. I know I said that maybe I'd sacrificed enough and that I'd make time for you -'"

"Damn it, Kasumi. You know that's not fair." Why couldn't she understand?

She glared at Garrus unbelievably, standing up from the couch that she had been sitting upon. "Not fair? Seriously, Garrus! Do you hear yourself? Do you know what it felt like? To be told that you didn't want to…be with me?" She shook her head, running her fingers through her hair. She didn't care that he'd only said that to try to protect her - Reaper War and all that - all she cared about was the feeling. And who was he to dictate that she needed protecting in the first place? When she looked at him again, she was seething. "And not just once. But now twice?"

Not knowing what to say, the turian silently watched her pace back and forth in exasperation.

"And you know who wouldn't do this to me?"

Spirits. Here it comes.

"Keiji wouldn't. Shorna wouldn't…" Comically, she paused in thought. "On second thought, Shorna would, but he was an asshole." She paused to look him directly in the eye. He could see the barely hidden tears - either of anger or pain or both - behind her eyes. "But David wouldn't," her voice took on a far more somber note and was thick with emotion, "And you can bet your bony, birdy ass that Shepard wouldn't have done something so…cruel to Tali."

He physically winced, that one stung. She was right; he knew that. Hell, he'd heard it firsthand - raspily coming from the man himself while he lay bettered in a hospital bed. But she hadn't let him even try to counter anything.

"Kasumi," he began quietly, "please, let me explain. I have a -"

"No." It was barely above a whisper, but radiated force. "I don't want to hear it. I want no part of this, Garrus."

Sniffling, she ran her hand across her forehead.

"You've made your choice."

Before Garrus could hope to respond, the lithe (former) thief ran to the table, flipped up her hood, grabbed the package and the OSD and turned on her cloak. A few seconds later, he heard the outer door whoosh open, and then close.

Now alone, he sat there dumbly with his hand extended in a feeble attempt to hold onto her.

With nary a whimper of defense from him, she was gone.