The Second Time
CRACK
The sound of his rifle booming across the bridge had become strangely comforting. He vaguely wondered how many poor bastards were desperate enough to sign up with the Blue Suns, Blood Pack or Eclipse. Maybe they needed money to feed their families. Maybe they were just bored.
CRACK
Either way, it didn't matter anymore. To him, or to the countless mercs lying dead along the bridge.
CRACK
As another body fell in an undignified heap, he sighed and chanced a quick gulp from the foul-tasting energy drink next to him. How long had he been up here?
Too long, if what he was seeing was anything to go by.
Mercs crossing the bridge, all human, two males and one female. The men, he didn't recognise. One had a set of yellow armor, the tattoo on his neck common for Blue Suns mercenaries. The other wore black - just another freelancer? But the woman... He had to be hallucinating. The combination of no sleep, various stimulants, and the vile energy drinks had to be catching up with him. Sure enough, she pulled out a submachine gun and he readied his rifle...
...only for her to shoot a freelancer in green armor. Sneaky little bastard had been hiding just out of his line of vision. He felt a small twinge of annoyance for not spotting the merc first, before once again focusing his attention on the small human woman steadily making her way across the bridge.
Had he finally lost his mind? That small voice in the back of his head told him that quitting C-Sec and telling Pallin where to shove it hadn't exactly been sane. But he chose to ignore the voice for now. Instead, he took out a freelancer lurking in the lower area of his apartment, and turned to address the human wearing Shepard's face.
"Shepard."
Any doubts he had previously held about who she was seemed to melt away when she smiled at him, teeth bared and eyes crinkled. He knew that smile.
"Garrus! What are you doing here?"
He knew that voice. It was her alright, looking a little tired and more than a little scarred. Were those marks on her face glowing? He briefly wondered what the hell she'd been doing for the past two years, before deciding that it didn't matter. She was here now, she wasn't pointing a gun at him, and for the first time in days, he saw himself making it out of this mess in one piece.
He wanted to tell her how tired he was, how much he hated that damn gunship Tarak kept taunting him with, what Sidonis had done, how much he appreciated her being there...
Instead, he handed her his rifle and watched as she blew the head clean off some unsuspecting mech. He smiled.
Just like old times.
