They made it to the spaceport without further incident, which Garrus found mildly disappointing.

"Hmph," said Garrus. "I guess this old soldier isn't worth sending out the guards for anymore." He looked at Hera. "I'm a little insulted."

"Don't take it personally, Garrus. They just don't know the damage you can still do. Remember, they think you're sick. Think of it as . . . stealth mode."

"Huh. Okay."

"How's the pain?"

"Constant. I can deal. And I guess I'll have to, for the rest of my life – so, not long. Beats the hell out of feeling numb, though."

"I bet."

He looked ahead to where she was leading him and stopped. "Um, Shepard? What is that?"

"What is what?"

"That thing." He pointed.

"That? That's our ship."

"That's not a ship, Shepard. That's a flying deathtrap. If it even flies."

"Well, like you said, you're going to die soon anyway," she grinned. "What's the big deal?"

"The big deal is that I just got back on my feet. I'd like to stretch them for a bit before I check out."

The ship, a small freighter, looked like it was made of rust with a couple of gray patches peeking through. Garrus was pretty sure he could make out a spiderweb crack in one of the viewports, and the starboard landing strut had obviously been replaced by one from a different ship. As a result, the ship leaned slightly to the left. And covering the hatch control –

"Shepard, is that . . . is that duct tape?"

"Yes, but," she leaned toward him and whispered conspiratorially. "The whole thing is actually held together with bubble gum." She grinned.

He didn't. "I'm not getting on that thing," he said, folding his arms.

"Relax, Garrus. Just like you, she's in stealth mode. We're going to be smugglers for this. We have to look the part."

"Can't we be successful smugglers? Smugglers who aren't rolling the dice on death every liftoff?"

"Garrus, have you ever heard the human expression, 'don't judge a book by its cover?'"

"Have you ever heard the turian expression, 'don't get on a ship that … sucks?'"

"It's not . . . It doesn't –" Hera gave a grunt of exasperation as she hit the hatch control. A little of the duct tape peeled back. "Look, just get in, will you?"

Garrus sighed and headed up the ramp. "Nice knowing you."

Hera rolled her eyes. "This is gonna be a long trip," she muttered as she followed the turian.

She joined Garrus in the cockpit. He had already made himself comfortable in the co-pilot's chair and swiveled to face her.

"Okay, Hera. I take back some of what I said. The weapons and navigation systems here are top notch. They'll be a real loss when the hull cracks and falls away during our next plunge into atmo."

"Good thing that won't happen, then," she said, starting the ignition sequence.

"How can you be so sure?"

"I called in a favor from an L8 engineer. He's been working on some alliance projects and managed to conjure up an effect shield that basically acts as a second hull. All that rust out there is just for show."

Garrus considered this for a moment. "Okay, Hera, my trust in you is restored. What about the landing strut? Another bit of subterfuge? Wait, don't tell me – I think I got it. The ship's core has been refitted to sit at an angle, so when it looks cockeyed on the ground, the core is actually level, right?"

"Uh," said Shepard, looking away. "No, I . . . um, well, the last time I flew her, there was a . . . I mean, I, uh . . . well, crashed - and I had to get her repaired quick. Never got around to getting a proper replacement."

Garrus rested his face in his palm. "Lovely," he muttered.

"Look, it wasn't my fault! Most everything runs perfectly!" said Hera indignantly.

"Most?"

"Well . . ." At that moment, much to Hera's embarrassment, the engine chose to cough, sputter, and die. "Dammit." She started the engine again. There was a loud BANG, then the engine settled into a much more comforting hum. "Ah. There," she said.

"Actually, never mind," said Garrus. "I don't want to know."

The ship lifted off smoothly, however, and soon they were heading for the relay to the Yangtze system.

"How old is this thing, anyway?" Garrus asked.

"Older than me, that's for sure."

Garrus chuckled. "Well, that's certainly saying something."

Hera punched him, hard, on the arm. Unfortunately for her, it was the robotic arm.

"Ow!"

Garrus smirked. "You hit pretty well for an old lady, but you know, you always rush in where angels fear to tread. Sometimes, that'll bite you. Figured you might have learned that by now."

"Garrus . . . shut up."

"Is your hand okay? Don't want your arthritis acting up."

"Shut. Up." Her eyes were steel. "Wasn't one of us dying, useless, in a hospital, a couple hours ago? So who's the old one here? Hell, you didn't even wait to get old – you were crotchety when I first met you."

"Hmph. Fine."

"See? Besides, just because she's an old ship doesn't mean she can't take us where we need to go. She's still got some life left in her. And being old just means she's been through a lot. If she could talk, what tales she could tell."

"Yeah. Kind of like us, I guess." He looked up at Hera. "But for how long?"

She met his gaze. "We never know, do we? In our line of work, we were more likely to cash it in years ago. Maybe it was just luck we made it this far. Or maybe, like the ship, we had heart. We could take a beating and still walk on – or, in Jack's case, fly."

"You named the ship Jack? Really?"

"Well, you know, rough on the outside . . . "

Garrus nodded. "Got it."

Garrus looked out the viewport, thinking of Jack . . . and Wrex, and Dr. Chakwas, and Joker, and Ashley, and Samara, and Mordin, and Thane, and Grunt, and Miranda, and Jacob, and Kasumi. All had become his friends, to one degree or another. And all of them were now gone. There were only a couple left from the crew they had all once been a part of.

His tried to make his thoughts gather around the ones that were left. "How's Liara doing these days, anyway?"

"She's good," said Hera, but there was a set to her jaw that made Garrus doubt her words. "But, you know, busy. The work of the Shadow Broker is never done. She keeps . . . odd hours. I feel like, sometimes, we just keep missing each other."

Garrus watched as Hera busied herself with the controls, checking readings, scopes, charts, back to the controls, monitored the drive . . .

"You just can't sit still, can you?"

"No. Not when Liara needs me."

"Are you sure that this is the way Liara needs you? Out here, when you could be with her, back there? I mean, why did she send you to do this? She must have hundreds, if not thousands, of agents who could do this kind of work."

"Actually, once we realized what was happening, I volunteered. In fact, I told her I was doing it. She tried to talk me out of it." She looked at him. "I need to keep her safe, Garrus. I do. I can't trust anyone else to take care of her. It has to be me. Someone else," she swallowed, hard. "Someone else might get it wrong."

"Well, you certainly have your priorities in order."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Garrus turned to look at her. "Hera, I understand that you want to protect Liara, but while you're out here, you're missing your life back there, with her. You've always been too busy – saving the galaxy, righting wrongs, whatever. And that's great work – but when's it enough? You need to hand over the reins and take some time for yourself and your family, before it's too late."

"I –"

"I know it feels like she'll live forever – but you won't. While you're out here, playing gunslinger, she's missing days and weeks with you that she'll never get back. And neither will you. You gotta get in it. Let your guard down. Right now, you're outside of it, protecting her, sure – but you need to get in it. She needs you in it, or you're going to miss the time you have left."

"Look, I hear what you're saying, but . . . sometimes, I feel like I'm just getting in her way at home. Maybe this is the only way I can show her, you know, that I . . ."

"But what if she doesn't get the message? There are other ways. You know it and so does she. So make the effort. Make the time. Make it before . . . it's too late. You're too busy protecting her and in the meantime you're not living with her. You never know when you're gonna run out of time. And you'll never get those moments back – the moments you missed." He turned away. "I'm trying to tell you something that I figured out. Something I figured out too late."

Suddenly, it dawned on Hera why he felt so strongly about all this. Her face reddened. I should have known.

"Garrus, I'm . . . I was sorry to hear about Tali."

Silence.

"I wish I'd –"

"Thought you would've at least made it for the funeral." His voice had an edge to it she didn't recognize.

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah, me too. She was sure – " He stopped. Cleared his throat. Took a breath. "She was sure you'd be there. Even on the last day, she was hanging on, waiting for you."

It was Hera's turn for silence.

"At least you were at our wedding. Oh, wait. No, you weren't." The edge is his voice had turned into real anger now.

"I was in a coma when she died, Garrus."

He took a second to take this in. "That's typical."

"What!?"

"Typical. Typical Shepard. What was it when we got married? Oh, right, deep cover, some damn covert op. And this time, you got what? Shot?"

"Yeah." She could feel her own anger rising now. "Yeah, I got shot. In the gut, I might add. I was out for two weeks."

"Yeah. Figures," he muttered.

"Figures what?"

Garrus exploded. "You never remember that people care about you when you're off doing who knows what! You never remember what you're trying so hard to protect! So what the hell does it matter anyway? You're always off doing some goddamn thing while the rest of us worry about you and hope we'll catch a glimpse of you once in a goddamn decade! But we're no more important to you than the next goddamn mission! Meanwhile, life is happening and you're missing it! Instead, you're fucking chasing death. Goddammit, Shepard!"

Her voice rose. "Well, who the hell else – "

"I don't CARE!" he roared. "SOMEBODY ELSE! You're not going to live forever, Shepard! I'm sure you think you're invulnerable, because you've cheated death so many times, but eventually, it'll catch up with you! And what will you have to show for it, huh?"

"I have Liara – "

"You need more than one person, Shepard. You know it. If your time on the Normandy showed you anything at all, it showed you that. And how much of Liara do you really have, when you're out here, tracking down trouble with me, instead of being at home, where you belong? Are you going to cheat her out of time with you, because you can't find some other way to show her how you feel? I'm sorry, but you're running out of time – just like I did, just like Tali did." He took a deep breath. "So what's going to happen in the time you have left? You going to just keep on, let her drift away while you're being her bodyguard instead of her wife?"

"No!"

"Then prove it. Be brave, Shepard. Do something that really scares you – let her see how much you need her. After all this time together, you deserve it. So does she."

Hera was silent for a good minute. He could hear her breathing. Was she trying to come up with a good retort, or had she listened to what he said?

Finally, she let out a long breath. "Dammit. Okay, Garrus. You're right." She looked at him, and although her face was dry, he could see the tears threatening to spill from her eyes. "This will be the last mission. Then I'm done."

Garrus nodded. He reached over to touch her shoulder, but she batted his hand away.

"Don't touch me, not right now," she said. She glanced at him. "You know me too damn well, you know that?"

"Yeah, well, that goes both ways, Hera."