There was a point in time when Garrus would have reveled in the opportunity to arrange help for people with nothing but a quick call through his omni-tool as he was able to do in that desert for the LCMF employees. They were shaken, cold, and more than a little in shock as to why their place of employment had sunk into the ground, but they were alive.
Wandering among the throng of employees were a few scattered mercs that had manged to escape the mine when they came to their senses after the second artifact was destroyed. Some of them provided a rather humorous show of confusion while trying their best to blend in with the crowd of civilians. Others tried to run, but Liara and Grunt put a swift end to that. Many blinked reproachfully at Garrus' soiled clothes, stained with the blood of their comrades, but they were in no state to attempt to do anything about it. He ignored both their questions and scornful looks, knowing that it wouldn't be long before the authorities arrived to apprehend them. Then they would no longer be his problem.
He knew he should have felt some shred of happiness or accomplishment at watching Asteria government vehicles descend from the sky simply because he- a Spectre, told them to. Remembering all the times he'd beat his fists against the proverbial wall of protocol while simultaneously assuring some wronged victim that he was 'doing all he could,' should have made him laugh at how easy it was now. With just two magic words- 'Spectre Authority'- doors flew open where before they slammed shut. He had helped these people today. And yet, as he sat in the purple sand, staring at the smoking crater that was the LCMF mining facility, he felt only apprehension.
Somewhere, lying beneath miles of sand and rubble, lay the corpse of someone he had assumed direct responsibility for.
'It's one life,' his inner turian reminded him. 'It was one life in exchange for all the others.' Somehow, the notion didn't make him feel any better. It was one life, sure, but it was one life that had put his trust in him, that Garrus promised to protect. For all the good that did him.
Bernard's death was a stark reminder of what his new position entailed. Sure, he had an ease and convenience now that was never granted to him before, but it came at a cost he hadn't considered. As a cop, when things didn't go his way and innocent people paid for it, he at least had the bitter luxury of casting blame on the legal system. He had always done his best with what he could get away with and, at times, a little more than that. Eventually, he'd get lassoed by the red tape and left powerless to do anything more. People got hurt because the legal system failed them- not him.
Now, as the image of Bernard's tear-stained face branded itself to his memory, he had no one to blame but himself.
His shortcomings were his own.
His failures were his own.
He refused to speak to the officials that flocked to him for word on just what the fuck happened. Of course they wanted to know why such a profitable business was suddenly in ruins and the employees of said business were strewn outside, lost and confused. For a brief moment, he contemplated the idea of telling them. He knew the Council would disapprove of him doing so without their consent, which made it all the more tempting. But then, and much to his irritation, he thought of the disfavor he knew he'd see on Victus' face which proved to be enough to make him stalk past the bureaucrat with nothing but a curt, "No comment."
That was another troubling conundrum that forced Garrus into silence during the car ride back to the Kodiak in Ta'relle. What was he going to tell Victus?
The thought of the Leviathans making an attempt to assume control over the galaxy was bad, but Garrus couldn't say he was surprised by it. They were fallen titans living in obscurity, sequestered and hidden in the trenches of the deepest oceans for cycles beyond counting. As Garrus has learned over the years, hubris is not something designated to just one species and for beings once considered the rulers of the galaxy, living the way they do now has to be irksome. It seemed only natural- inevitable, even- that they'd seize an opportunity to claw their way back to power.
What really bothered Garrus was the apparent involvement of, not only someone he knew personally, but a Councilor- a leader to the new cycle.
Kaisar- an all but dead word meaning above Primarch and thus above Hierarchy. Unlike Victus' time in the military, where his regiment was dedicated to fighting large bands of Separatists, Garrus' was targeted at pirates and the odd race traffickers crazy enough to conduct business in or near Hierarchy space. So, while his knowledge of the Separatists was limited beyond the standard of what was taught in schools, he knew that even they used it sparingly, if at all, and it was certainly unheard of in any Loyalist turian culture. That was until Adrien Victus rose to power. Then the word was whispered more and more, occasionally having to be removed from subway walls after being painted on or carved into the stone. And despite being what Garrus would consider a 'bad turian,' Adrien was Hierarchy through and through and would chafe at any usage of the title.
'Well, verbal usage,' Garrus mentally amended, remembering the scene he witnessed outside Cipritine Hospital, days after the Primarch's attempted assassination. The ground had glittered with metal bullets that were placed almost reverently in the sun.
Still, Victus wasn't going to be happy with what Garrus had to tell him.
Hours later, Garrus still pored through his thoughts even as the Kodiak hatch lifted with a hiss to reveal the surrounding steel and chrome of the Normandy's cargo bay. He let his team file out ahead of him and, when it was his turn to step out, he was so distracted that he almost walked into Shepard, seated in her wheelchair and waiting for him.
She looked up at him, momentarily wide-eyed, which was when Garrus remembered his new look of red Taetrus colony markings. Her eyes roved quickly down his body, taking in the multi-colored gore that had spattered his disguise. He was about to mumble a quick apology and a promise to shower when her arms came up to circle his hips, the side of her face resting against the vile substance that coated his waist. It was going to stick to her skin, he knew, but she didn't seem to care. It was then his fatigue crashed over him and he found himself struggling to remain on his feet.
Shepard didn't keep their relationship a secret by any means, but she always strived for an air of professionalism among the crew. For her to embrace him openly like this, like she had done back on Earth at the rendezvous point in front of the Primarch, meant she was scared- terrified for him. She didn't care who was around to see and as he felt the warmth of her arms seep through the ruin of his sticky clothes, neither did he.
Garrus sank to his knees and pressed his brow against hers.
"I'm all right, Shepard."
"Such sweet lies you tell, Vakarian." She wasn't crying. Tears were something she would only share privately with him, but he could hear the relief in her voice all the same.
"I know I should say 'sorry for scaring you.'"
"That'd be nice."
Garrus brushed his nose against hers. "But not as much as I want to say, 'now you know how I felt when you disappeared beneath the water in that old mech back on Despoina.'"
"I guess that's fair," she admitted with a wry smile.
Garrus spent the next thirty minutes briefing her on all that had transpired, leaving Bernard's fate for last. He had planted himself on a gunmetal-gray storage crate. Shepard watched him from her mobile seat, patiently listening without interruption besides the occasional question. He knew that the time he was spending talking to Shepard could be considered a distraction from time he should be spending speaking to the Councilor, but it helped to get his thoughts together before throwing himself into the inevitable conversation he dreaded.
"When I came to, he was already dead. Blood was coming out of his nose and ears like his brain had been... scrambled or something."
Dead eyes and a broken promise. Garrus' fingers twitched, tempted to close into a fist. Shepard didn't miss it.
"I'm sorry," she told him.
Garrus brushed her apology away with a flick of his mandible. "Hey, it's part of the job, right? I've seen civilians get caught in the crossfire before. This isn't the first time-" He huffed a bitter sound of what could almost be described as laughter. "-This isn't the first time by any means, but somehow I feel more personally responsible for this than any of the other times. 'Survival of the fittest,' I guess."
He realized he was avoiding her gaze when he saw her hand join his atop his lap. An unsmiling face met him when he looked up.
"Now that doesn't sound like my guy," she told him, almost earning herself a smile for throwing that familiar phrase back at him.
"No," he agreed. "I guess it doesn't. 'Survival of the fittest' isn't why my dad and I joined C-Sec. It isn't why I wanted to stop that monster of a doctor from hurting any more people. And it isn't why my men and I pushed back against the gangs on Omega." He sighed before continuing. "This is just a bitter pill I know I have to swallow."
"I can relate." Of course she could. Who knew loss better than Commander Shepard? She released his hand to run her fingers quickly through her tresses. Regrettably, her hand then found a new home on her own lap. "Remember Fai Dan on Feros? I think that if I had been faster, maybe he wouldn't have shot himself. I think of Ashley, Thane, Legion, Mordin." It was her turn to emit a bitter sound. "Hell, sometimes I think of Saren." A beat, and then, "I sure as hell think of Tarquin. I don't think I'll ever forget his face- the expression he wore when he looked right at me." Garrus must have revealed his eagerness to cut in on her self-deprecation because Shepard hurried with, "I'm not trying to turn this into a pity party. I guess I just want to remind you that I know what you're going through. You're not alone in this. I got a taste of the Spectre life and it wasn't always sweet. But, you don't need me to tell you that. You were there for all of it." Her hand found his again and she gave it a gentle squeeze. Over time, Garrus had become well-versed in the myriad array of Shepard's facial expressions, but the look she gave him now was almost indiscernible. It was as if she knew something he didn't, which, he could admit, wouldn't surprise him. "For what it's worth, I think you're turning out to be a damn good Spectre, Vakarian. You're... really growing into your own leadership." She flashed him a smile that never failed to make him stop and stare for a moment. "It's a good look on you."
In front of anyone else, Garrus would have felt sheepish at the bashfulness he heard in both his chuckle and subvocals when he replied: "And she's still trying to make me blush."
Shepard laughed. "Not this once, no."
Touched, Garrus placed his other hand over hers atop his lap, an echo of the gesture he'd used when they reunited on the battlegrounds of Menae. He knew Bernard would likely haunt his thoughts for some time and an even deeper portion of him equated it to his guilt surrounding Omega like an insect to a flame. Yet Shepard, as always, made swallowing even the largest pills tolerable. She was a cool drink of water in an arid desert. How he wished he could have been that for her during their hunt for Saren as she was for him now.
"I wouldn't have been opposed to it, you know," she had informed him once while they laid in bed some nights back. He recalled the way her mouth had tugged into a coquettish grin.
"Really?" He had shot her a sideways look. "Even through all those Alliance fraternization rules? I find that hard to believe."
"I would have made an exception for you if... you know... you'd shown interest." She glared at him then, eyes narrowed into an accusatory stare, but the gentle dance of her alluring fingers down his bare torso ebbed any heat from her glower.
Garrus bent his head to nuzzle her throat. "Oh, believe me. I was interested," he growled against her skin, sensing the resultant quickening of her pulse against his mouth. "But after watching the way you sent Alenko and Liara sulking, what was a poor, young turian to think?"
"That maybe the Commander's tastes lie more in line with plated hide and a handsome fringe."
"Flatterer," he had quipped before silencing Shepard's laughter with his mouth against hers.
Now Garrus released her hand so that he could reach into his pocket to withdraw the datachip. Holding it between them, he turned it around his fingers so that Shepard could examine all sides of it. She took it from his offered hand to bring it close to her face.
"Then there's the question of what to do with this," she said as her eyes trailed over the circuitry that lined the metal like veins.
Garrus knew what she wanted to do with it. He reached for the chip, half expecting her to keep it from him, but she allowed him to pluck it from her hand. "I know you want to stick this in EDI's head and see if she'll fire up."
"Yeah. I do," she whispered sadly, her eyes still fixed on the piece of metal before she looked up to meet his gaze. "You don't agree," she said, not as an accusation- simply a fact.
Garrus hated watching the disappointment shadow her features when he shook his head. "We don't know what it does, Shepard."
"I know." She gave a reluctant nod. "But Joker..." Shepard trailed off and looked away from him, her brows pinched in concern. After a moment, she peered up at him guiltily and said, "Garrus, there's something I never told you about Joker. I learned something that I don't think he wanted me to know, which is why I never told you before."
After a quick scan of their surroundings for listening ears, Shepard quietly began her tale of when she'd gone to visit Thane at Huerta Memorial and overheard a conversation between a guilt-stricken asari commando and her psychotherapist.
"I know I shouldn't have listened in. It wasn't my place or my business, but when I heard her mention Tiptree and Hilary, I couldn't just keep walking. He has no one, Garrus. EDI was all he had left and I knew that and still I..." She looked away from him again, leaving the final words unspoken and yet they were loud and clear. 'Took her away' was what she meant to say.
Garrus reached for the armrests of her chair and drew her close to him so he could easily press his brow against hers. He closed his eyes and emitted a comforting hum he knew she couldn't entirely understand, but he hoped the gist of it would come across.
"I would've made the same choice," he admitted, opening his eyes to lock his gaze with hers. "EDI was just as determined to end the Reapers as we all were. Any one of us would have sacrificed ourselves if it meant bringing them down. I think, if given the choice, she wouldn't have liked the other options either. She wouldn't have wanted you to force a molecular change on the galaxy for her sake and she wouldn't have wanted you to-" Garrus blinked, his words faltering for a moment. "-To try to take control of the Reapers, potentially becoming the next Harbinger or who knows what. There was only one choice, Shepard. You made the right one."
"I miss her," she told him faintly as to hide the hitch in her voice, but he heard it. "I still catch myself speaking out loud to her, as if she'll answer like she used to."
So did Garrus every now and then. It took time to get accustomed to EDI's ever-present, synthetic company, but once he had, he discovered that he enjoyed speaking with her while he stood hunched over his terminal in the forward battery. She was always good for discussing trajectories and firing algorithms. Hell, she was probably the first one to accept his presence on the Cerberus SR-2 before any of the human crew did, save for Joker and Shepard, of course. Even Yeoman Chambers initially only viewed him as a subject to pick at.
"Me too," he affirmed. "But I was with you when you were tasked to handle that 'rogue VI' on Luna. Remember that?"
After a deep breath she pulled away from his brow. "I remember a whole lot of bullets and turrets."
Garrus was pleased to hear a shred of humor come from her so soon after such a heavy topic. Maybe he really was improving on the whole romance thing. In retrospect, maybe she was too. They always had a funny way of improving off the other. He was pleased to see that their relationship was not an exception.
"We don't know how advanced this chip is in her development. It could be EDI as we knew her or it could be a scared, angry VI that we're stranded with out in space."
Shepard suddenly straightened in her chair. "The geth!"
Garrus hesitated. That was not an option he'd considered. They could possibly help them regain EDI or, at the very least, glean what information from the chip they could. Still, EDI was a bit of an exception for Garrus as far as his trust for AI went. He liked Legion too, but Shepard was the one that insisted on placing his name on the 'Wall of the Fallen,' not him. He was certainly not as open to them as Shepard was, for the most part, but he could admit that it was probably their safest choice.
"Under one condition."
"First you're giving me orders. Now you're giving me conditions." She sat back in her chair, watching him alertly. She wasn't angry, he knew. After all, she understood his feelings toward AI. Garrus suspected that she would have adhered to his conditions even if he didn't have command over the ship.
"I want Tali overseeing it. No one knows the geth better than she does."
"Agreed," she asserted, but her mouth had pulled into a grim frown. "What I want to know is why the Leviathans were interested in the chip in the first place. They were obviously trying to keep it from you or... using it to lure you." Her frown deepened and her eyes darkened, shadowed by an awful memory. "After... Jesus... everything that's happened, I can't believe they're willing to play around with AI again."
She had a point. It was their AI gone wrong that ended up dooming, not only themselves, but innumerable people if the AI -the Catalyst- she spoke with on the Citadel was to be believed. As immensely powerful as the Leviathans were, they were the galaxy's worst fuck-ups. Somehow, in a strange sort of way, thinking of them like that reduced their terrifying presence. Well, at least a little. One day Garrus hoped for the opportunity to tell them as much.
"Maybe the geth can help us figure that out, too," he offered, more as a demonstration of his commitment to her suggestion than his genuine thoughts on whether or not they'd actually be successful.
"Let's hope so." Shepard's deep frown faded to be replaced with another bright smile. "Now, if you're done stalling, I think you've got a mission to report, Vakarian."
"I'm not stalling."
"You're stalling," she countered.
"Maybe a little." Garrus stood from his crate and bent to press his mouth against the top of Shepard's head. Strands of her hair clung lightly to his mandibles when he pulled away. "I guess it's time to- what's the saying?- 'face the music?'"
Shepard reached for his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "You'll do fine."
Garrus supposed it could be considered stalling to completely bypass the CIC in favor of the cabin, but surely the multi-colored blood that stained his clothes and clung to his hide warranted a shower. Not to mention the paint on his face that still needed to come off. And hadn't he earned the extra time to allow the heat to soak into his aching leg?
Yet, when he stepped into the lavatory and moved to turn the shower on, he felt guilty. However much Victus had changed from the man he once knew, he still deserved to know the outcome of the mission he had personally sent a Spectre on. What was it he had said? That Garrus was the only one he could trust to complete it?
Resigned, and with a heavy sigh, Garrus stepped away from the shower in favor of the sink to simply scrub the makeup from his face. It took some time and it left the porcelain stained red and silver. Though, it had already been stained by the washing of previous disguises. When he finished and checked himself in the mirror, he was met with the familiar, geometric lines of his old Cipritine markings and, of course, the grizzly scars that would forever mar his face. Pretty.
He thought about changing his clothes, but dismissed the thought for cultural reasons. For turians, reporting to your superiors with the blood of your enemies on you, particularly on your front, is typically viewed favorably. It was a sign that you never ran, never turned your back on the mission, instead pressing ahead despite opposition to see to its conclusion. That, or you're a coward that hung back and then coated yourself with blood in the hopes you would pass as a good soldier.
Garrus highly doubted that Victus would think such a thing of him, but he was still turian and still a superior. So, leaving his soiled clothes on, Garrus stepped into the lift and selected the CIC floor. He meant to walk straight for the War Room -really, he did- but somehow found himself passing it by and heading straight for the bridge, the back of Joker's chair in his sights.
Joker must have heard his approach because he swiveled his seat around before Garrus could even get a word in.
"Well, look who comes crawling to me when he needs a distraction." The human was reclined casually in his seat with a bag of chips in hand. He gestured at Garrus with the crinkling bag of snacks. "Stalling?"
He was not stalling!
"No." Garrus reached into his pocket, withdrew the data chip, and offered it to the pilot. "I need this kept safe for the time being and I can't think of a better person than you for the job."
Joker raised a skeptical brow, but accepted the datachip nonetheless. "Okay," he said slowly, clearly dubious by both the piece of metal and Garrus' order. "I don't know what you expect me to do if someone comes knocking for it."
"I'm sure you'll figure something out for EDI's sake."
Joker's reaction was immediate. Both the bag of snacks and the datachip slipped from his loosened grip, but it was the latter he scrambled to catch. The bag was not so fortunate. It met its fate with the metal floor, spilling its salty contents all over the place.
"Wait, what?"
Garrus lowered himself in the chair -EDI's chair- beside Joker and swiveled it around to face him. He then launched into his explanation of how he found the chip from the facility. He chose to gloss over Bernard's death, not feeling the need to revisit that moment of failure again quite yet. Then, he told him of the discussion he had with Shepard and that they both agreed to seek the geth and Tali's help and why. Jeff was mute throughout the entire story, his eyes fixed almost reverently on the piece of circuitry in his hand.
This was the first time Garrus had seen him so shaken and tight-lipped ever since the moment he discovered EDI had powered down indefinitely. Given what he had just learned from Shepard, watching EDI, watching the last person he loved, fall limp in the chair must have been especially excruciating. Yet, the aptly named Joker never drew attention to his pain. Instead, choosing to hide it behind smiles and sarcastic quips while they struggled to get the Normandy off the ground.
For someone who talked so much, Joker's suffering was silent.
A part of Garrus had to wonder if the pilot privately resented Shepard for her choice. He had no doubt that Shepard did.
He concluded his story with: "I'm sorry we didn't tell you earlier."
"Yeah. That... sucks." Joker's mouth pressed into a grim line, his eyes staring a moment longer at the chip before they rose to meet Garrus' watchful gaze. Garrus pretended not to notice the moisture he saw pooling in the human's eyes. "But I get it."
Garrus leaned forward "So, I can trust you to keep it safe?"
Garrus knew the answer already. Someone would have about as easy a time getting through Joker to that chip as they would trying to get through Garrus to Shepard. Joker wasn't a fighter, but that didn't make him any less a soldier. It was easy to forget, but beneath that carefree demeanor, he was just as smart and resourceful as any Alliance marine. Garrus knew he could task no one else better, that no one else would be more motivated to keep that chip hidden and secure.
"I... Yeah." Joker tugged the front of his cap down, shading his eyes and turned his seat away from Garrus to face the blackness of space. Garrus wondered what he saw there. His family? His home? EDI?Whatever reason Joker had to turn his attention to the void, Garrus took it as a signal that the conversation was over. Not knowing what else to say, he stood from his seat and turned to leave the bridge.
"Hey, Garrus?" He heard from behind. Garrus half-turned to find the pilot facing him again, eyes now reddened, but tears still held firmly at bay. "Thanks."
Garrus only nodded and, not wanting to draw out what had become a bit of an awkward moment any longer, turned away from the pilot to continue his journey to the War Room.
Standing alone in the comm-chamber, Garrus took a moment to steel himself before putting the call through. While he waited, he mentally went over every possible scenario of how to begin the conversation. He wasn't surprised when each rendition of his thoughts met a similar and unpleasant outcome. No matter how he framed it, Victus wasn't going to be happy.
'Not like it's the first time I've disappointed my boss,' he reasoned.
Garrus had a total of twenty seconds to collect his thoughts before a projection of Victus flickered into existence. The last time they spoke, it was almost amicable so there was a chance it could go that way again. Regardless, old training kicked in and he couldn't help straightening in the presence of a superior.
"Councilor," he greeted, deciding to err on the side of professionalism.
"Vakarian." The name was spoken cold and clipped, setting the tone between an employer and employee. "I've received rather interesting reports from the Asteria government. Something about their largest mining facility sinking into the ground without explanation." Victus' eyes narrowed. "Elaborate."
"You were right, sir," Garrus told him, watching the lines of the Councilor's posture harden the instant the words left his mouth. "It was them. The Leviathans were behind it all."
Victus remained absolutely silent while Garrus retold the events for the third time in the last two hours. When he got to the part about Dr. Saitō, he hesitated, unsure of how to explain to a Citadel Councilor that they potentially uncovered a way to bring back their very illegal AI. Had it been anyone else, any of the other Councilors, Garrus was sure he would have lied. As it was, he had to believe that his friend would understand, that he'd realize the importance of such a find to the case at hand. If not as his friend, then at least as an old colleague who knew his work and principles well enough to trust him.
"Sir, one of the doctors there- a Doctor Saitō- used to be an employee of Cerberus. She was the head developer of that... of EDI. I'm sure you remember her from your stay here." Again, Victus remained absolute in his taciturnity. Garrus paused for a second, expecting at least a nod or some sound of affirmation, but when he didn't receive even that, he felt little choice but to press on. "We recovered a datachip that proves they were developing AI technology in that facility. The Leviathans were quite keen to keep it from me. When we learned about it, a self-destruct countdown started. Lovely place of business, they must've been." Sometimes Garrus was unable to shut his sarcasm off, especially when he was nervous. It was a quirk that got him into trouble more than a few times. Victus didn't so much as flutter a mandible at the inserted quip. "The chip was on a civilian my team and I met shortly after entering the facility. By the time we learned of it, the Leviathan had seized control of him and all those missing mercs you mentioned." Garrus gestured to his bloody state. "I found them, by the way. I chose to chase him down while my ground team destroyed the remaining artifact, but when I caught him..." Garrus paused again, remembering the tear-stained face that stared back at him through his scope, betrayed. "The Leviathans have the power to kill their thralls whenever they want. Damn near almost killed me in the process."
"Casualties?" Finally, Victus spoke.
Plenty. Too many to count, but Garrus knew Victus was not referring to the endless waves of mercs he had to carve his way through. To Victus, the death of a merc was little more than collateral damage, if even that. It was the innocent bystanders- the employees sucked into the vortex of the Leviathans' influence that he cared about.
"Other than that civilian, none that I know of. I sent a member of my team to evacuate them before the place came down."
"And the datachip?"
Uh-oh.
"In our possession, sir. I'm taking it to be examined by professionals."
"'Professionals?'"
"The geth." That got a reaction from the otherwise stoic politician. Victus flared his mandibles into a surprised show of teeth. "I know it seems a little-"
"Unauthorized," the Councilor cut in sharply, clearly unamused.
Garrus winced slightly at the icy tone. "I was going to say 'unorthodox,' but Adri- Councilor, I know this was an unsanctioned decision-" Garrus chanced a step closer to the Councilor's projection. "But I need you to trust me on this one."
Victus' eyes fixated on his face like a sniper's laser dot. It made him want to dash for cover like one too, but Garrus refused to look away. He had to trust that his friend was still there, that he knew Garrus enough to rely on him. Spirits, he was his damn Advisor throughout the war and after.
After a long, tense silence, Victus finally said, "You behaved rashly in your mission to retrieve Commander Shepard." Garrus' anger flared instantly and he opened his mouth, armed with a heated retort, but was cut off by the vibrations of a warning thrum. Holo-comm has come a long way in projecting the subtleties of turian subvocals. "But all things considered, you did well here. You've done everything I've asked of you and more. You have my leave to deal with the chip as you see fit." Garrus was still bristling at the last comment, but he learned long ago when not to push his luck. Still, he wouldn't thank him. Judging by the almost amused flare of his mandible, Victus didn't expect him to. "If what Commander Shepard told me about the Catalyst is true, I find it strange that the Leviathans have any interest in AI at all."
Garrus nodded, recognizing what appeared to be an attempt at conversation on the Councilor's part. "She said the same thing. Maybe they think they've learned from their mistakes enough to avoid the same outcome? And damned if that doesn't trivialize unleashing a race of sentient machines on the galaxy."
"I'm not surprised that they're choosing now, of all times, to reemerge." Hands still folded behind his back, Victus shifted his weight to the other foot. His face was set in a contemplative image. "As far as we know-"
"Which really isn't much at all," Garrus reminded him.
Victus acknowledged him with a nod. "They've never tried to take over any cycle before us. Why now, do you think?" By his tone, Victus clearly knew the answer already. The question was plainly posed as a way to learn if he and Garrus were on the same page.
They were.
"In order to return to what they once were, they need sentient thralls, which tended to be in short supply once the Reapers were done. They never took over before because they couldn't. For better or worse, the Reapers were the only thing keeping them in check and now, with them gone..."
"And with the galaxy still licking its wounds, they've never had a better opportunity to strike than now." Victus began a slow, unhurried pace back and forth across the platform as Garrus watched him gather his thoughts. "You once told me that they chose to help us combat the Reapers after meeting Commander Shepard in person. Because of her, they decided that we were a cycle worth saving, but I sincerely doubt that it was out of any sort of charity on their part."
In the face of the current nightmarish topic, Garrus couldn't help the pleased grin his mandible flared into. It was like old times again, the Advisor and Primarch slinging out ideas and combining their respective experience to form formidable plans. It felt good. "We were worth saving, because we were worth using."
"Exactly." Victus paused his pacing and turned to face Garrus. If he didn't know any better, he'd say there was a partial smile on the older turian's face again.
Encouraged, Garrus asked him, "So now that we know they're a threat again, what does the Council plan to do about it?"
At that, Victus' smile vanished, wiped away by the onset of his diplomatic reality. "I can't be sure. That's something I'll have to discuss with the other-" Victus paused to remap his words. "With my affiliates. Though, the more cover we deny our enemies, the less opportunities they'll have to ambush us."
"Are you suggesting to make this public knowledge?" Garrus canted his head to the side, amused at the Councilor's very un-Council-like method.
"If nothing else, we could begin to monitor mining facilities more closely. They do seem to be the ones to stumble across these artifacts." As if the general inside him was clawing his way out, Victus resumed his pacing. "As for those that have already been found and hidden, they could be anywhere. Scattered throughout the colonies, stowed away on ships, hidden in people's basements-" Victus halted to face Garrus again and added. "-Already smuggled to the Citadel."
Victus' final words opened up like a vacuum in the room, extinguishing any ease Garrus had managed to gain. Given what he witnessed in that mine, that was a very real possibility. He straightened his posture and prepared to deliver the last bit of bad news he had. "Sir, there's... one more thing I need to tell you. That human I mentioned earlier, whenever the Leviathan took control, it would talk through him. It kept telling me, 'You're not the one.'"
"Commander Shepard," Victus deduced, coming to the same natural conclusion Garrus had.
"Yeah, or so I thought at first. Then, during my escape, I ran through a room with walls covered, floor to ceiling, in writing. It was just the same word over and over. I don't think they were talking about Shepard." Garrus took a breath and pinned Victus with a grave stare. "Sir, the word was 'Kaisar.'" Victus went completely rigid and his mandibles tightened to his face. He didn't need any clarification as to what Garrus was getting at, but he felt the need to do so anyway. "I think they were talking about you."
As the seconds ticked by and the stifling quiet withstood, Garrus began to shuffle his feet under Victus' unrelenting stare. It was as if he was searching for something or piecing together a complicated equation, Garrus' head standing in for the board. When it finally became too much, Garrus offered: "It might be in your best interest to establish more security around you."
"You seem to be confused, Vakarian."
Gone was the friend Garrus knew so well. Pulled away into obscurity like so many before him. It hurt to watch every time.
"Sir?"
"Or perhaps I'm the one that requires clarification. You see, I don't recall reinstating you as my Advisor."
"What?" Garrus bridled. "What are you talking about? That has nothing to do with-"
"And I know for certain that I didn't ask for your opinion." Garrus could damn near visualize the wall rising up again. "Your job is to get me information when I ask for it and to execute my orders when I give them."
"Adrien, I have no idea what they want with you. For all you know they could be planning-"
"That is not your prerogative, Spectre." The words were carried on a tenor of barely suppressed rage. Garrus felt them slice into his hide like betrayal. The Councilor stood tall atop the platform, observing Garrus with a look of pure condemnation. He's seen it before, leveled at other politicians that sought to best Victus in the game and were quickly silenced with that very look. Admittedly, it could be fun to watch the scene play out, but as Garrus found himself on the receiving end of that stare he could no longer find anything humorous about it. "Await further orders. And don't do anything stupid in the meantime."
The Councilor's hologram flickered out, leaving his final words echoing in his wake, further stoking Garrus' anger. The sting of his talons stabbing into his palms alerted Garrus to the state of his hands, clenched into hard fists as they were. He needed a drink or maybe something to hit. He turned on his heel to leave the comm-chamber, intent for both the bar and the punching bag, in that order. He would have done just that if not for the redhead that blocked his escape, bringing his erupting tirade to a simmering boil.
"Geez," remarked Shepard, eyes flickering between Garrus and the desolate hologram platform behind him. The wave of blue that lit the comm-chamber washed out her ivory skin, making her look paler than usual. "Who spit in his oatmeal?"
He didn't know what oatmeal was, but he recognized the joke for what it was supposed to be: an attempt to cheer him up. He wasn't in the mood. Garrus met her eyes briefly, tried for a smile, failed, and then moved to brush past her. There was a bottle of horosk sitting in the bar that sounded really inviting right now.
Before he could pass her, she gently reached out and caught his wrist. He couldn't stop the quiver in his mandibles at the contact, giving away his apprehension and he knew she saw it. "Hold on." Her voice was soft but edged with concern. "Are you okay?"
"Fine."
"That didn't sound 'fine'." Her grip on his wrist, firm but gentle, did not lessen. "Did something happen when you were on Palaven? That didn't sound like the Victus I know."
"Knew," Garrus corrected. "And that's because he isn't." Shepard let his wrist go when he yanked it -probably a little too hard- from her grip. Guilt was quick to shame him for the roughness of the action so he didn't immediately turn to leave like he wanted to.
"You care about him, don't you." It wasn't a question. Shepard pinned him with a measured look. "You're genuinely concerned about him."
"Shepard-"
"No, you are. The look on your face right now reminds me quite a bit of how you looked when you were worried sick about your family, waiting to hear from them. Is that what he is to you?"
Scratch that. He was ready to leave now. "It doesn't matter," Garrus rumbled as he turned away from her.
He had made it one foot out the door when he heard: "He cares about you, too."
Garrus stopped, whirling on the spot to face her again. The blue illumination of the comm-chamber, now behind her, silhouetted the frame of her chair and the outline of her face. "He's got a funny way of showing it."
"Garrus, the last thing he said to me was to take care of you." Her voice had risen, not quite to a shout, but it was enough to slice through the gentle hum of the ship around them. Garrus stared at her, at a loss for words, but his lack of response and movement prompted her to explain. "When he was last on the Normandy, after I told him everything that happened between me and the Catalyst, I... hugged him."
"You hugged him?" Garrus had a hard time picturing that man hugging anything, let alone a human. Let alone his human.
Shepard shook her head. "He had just told me that I 'did well' and that I 'saved us all.' For a second there, it kind of reminded me of... of Anderson- of his last words to me." Her shoulders rose and fell in a meager shrug. "And maybe I was emotional at the time, I don't know. I just did. I thanked him for keeping his word during the war and watching out for you on Palaven and for 'getting me out of that fucking hospital.'" She huffed a laugh. "Pretty sure I used the word 'fucking' too."
Garrus continued to stare down at her. This was the first time he was hearing this story. He remembered returning to the med-bay that day with Morticia in his arms and feeling the tension in the air. Shepard had looked taken aback in that moment.
"He hugged me back, if you can believe it." He couldn't. She was little more than an object to the Councilor. Nothing more. Shepard was trying to make him feel better, but she didn't know what Garrus knew about Adrien Victus. If anything, she was only enraging him more. "And he told me how I could return the favor. He said 'Commander, please take care of Garrus.'"
"Shepard-" He didn't want to hear any more.
"And he meant it, Garrus."
"HE CALLED YOU A COMMODITY!" Garrus finally snapped, slamming down a stunned silence between them. She looked at him, her face slack with surprise though, and much to his growing irritation, he knew that it had more to do with his outburst than the subject of it.
He took a breath to cool the raw anger that boiled beneath the surface. That's when he remembered the team of techs stationed just outside the comm-chamber, in the War Room...Where he currently stood rigid with anger. A quick glance revealed them all at their stations, staring intently at their monitors and looking all the world like they hadn't overheard his outburst.
Collecting what remained of his dignity, Garrus stepped back into the privacy of the comm-chamber, hoping he hadn't just pushed Shepard away from him. Mercifully, she followed him in and he cycled the door shut behind her. She didn't wheel herself far from the entrance, instead choosing to watch him from a distance as he crossed the space of floor back to the hologram platform, keeping his back to her while he gathered his thoughts.
And hating himself for yelling at her.
"Remember when I told you that I worked with him after the war?" He heard a small sound of confirmation before continuing. "There's more to it than what I've told you."
"I kinda figured that."
"Victus offered me a position twice before I accepted. I wasn't handling your 'second death' well, Shepard. At all. It was so bad that he pulled the whole 'interfering superior' thing." He paused, feeling Shepard's eyes on his back.
"But turians typically only resort to that for issues like excessive substance abuse..."
"Yeah." He couldn't bear to look at her, to see the disappointment he knew he'd find if he did. "Problem with being 'Advisor to the Primarch' is that I only had one superior. So, in a moment I never imagined happening, the damn Primarch of Palaven showed up on my doorstep. I believe I told him to 'fuck off' so, of course, his natural response was to rig explosives to my door."
"Damn, do all turian officers take interventions that seriously?"
Garrus couldn't help the diminutive smile his mandible flared into. He chanced turning his head to aim it at Shepard and was pleased to find her actively listening. Also, she didn't look too angry or disappointed with him so he'd take that as a small victory.
"Only the good ones," he admitted. "I then went on to punch the Primarch of Palaven in the face, as one does when he shows up uninvited and we continued to beat the crap out of each other for... Spirits, I don't remember how long. It finally came to a head when he grabbed your..." Garrus stopped, realizing he had never told Shepard of how the crew wanted to place her name on the KIA wall. He took that moment to tell her then. She listened mutely while keeping her face fairly free of emotion besides the slight downward curve of her mouth, but he knew it bothered her. However, he knew she wouldn't want to talk about it now so he continued. "I kept it. And when Victus threatened to break it in half, I stopped fighting."
"Let me get this straight. He shows up, breaks your door, assaults you, and you built a friendship on that?"
"To be fair," Garrus dipped his head to give her a pointed look. "I hit him first and... yeah. We did. I got better after that, Shepard. I focused on work, on my family, I..." He looked away from her. "I even tried to move on." Silence. Garrus cringed, not even bothering to hide his shame when he forced himself to meet her eyes again. He found her looking at him, lips parted, confusion and, to his heartbreak, a shred of pain etched across her features. But she deserved to know. "I met a girl on Palaven and... I tried. I went through the motions, I tried to be happy, but... I couldn't."
After what seemed like hours- though in reality it was likely only seconds- Shepard's lips pressed together into a tight smile. "It's all right, Garrus."
"Is it?"
"Yeah. It is. I won't pretend it doesn't sting a little." She laughed, somewhat nervously, and then sheepishly added, "I admit, I don't like the idea of another girl putting her hands on you, but you deserve to be happy."
"I'm happy now," he assured her.
"Can I at least pretend she was awful?" She asked, glancing up at him through her eyelashes.
Garrus frowned, guilt tightening his mandibles to his face as he thought of the mistreated turian woman he'd left behind. "You could, but it wouldn't be accurate. She was actually... very nice. Her name was Cybele."
"I didn't need to know her name."
"Right. Sorry." Garrus wanted badly to close the space between them, but he refrained. He needed to finish what he began. "Then Victus became the Councilor. It was after that, when we were talking about how to get you out, when he referred to you, to my face, as a commodity."
"He's not wrong."
Whatever he expected Shepard to say, it wasn't that. Garrus' eyes snapped onto her. "Don't say that," he growled.
"I'm a Spectre, Garrus-"
He was shaking his head, denying her words and silently begging her to stop diminishing herself.
"And so are you. That makes us-"
"He knows I'm bonded to you, Shepard!" Shepard's mouth snapped shut with an audible click. Anger swept into him, rendering him unable to recognize his mistake until it was too late. "He knew that when he said it. He knew how much I hated watching you be used over and over again. The Alliance, the Council, Cerberus." Garrus spat the names like sins. He needed to move, he needed an outlet to work his rage out of his system so he began to pace. "After everything that had happened- finding out you were truly alive- the last thing I needed to hear was more of the same shit from someone I thought was my friend!"
He was moving too fast, too infuriated to notice her approaching him. It was only when he felt the grip of a small pair of hands on the front his cowl that he stopped his motion. The small hands dragged his thoughts from the torrential storm his mind had become and brought his attention to the pair of eyes that stared up at him... longingly, he registered. Then he noticed the wheelchair some distance from them.
Shepard not only got up on her own, but she walked to him.
He couldn't be sure how long she could hold herself up so he was quick to wrap his arms around her waist to save her a potential fall. Watching her standing under her own weight again was enough to make him forget his anger instantly.
"You're standing," he intelligently stated.
"Say that again," she whispered. Confused, he blinked at her, not knowing what she meant. "You're bonded to me?"
Shit. Garrus couldn't bear to hold her gaze any better than he could stop his mandibles from pinching against his face in apology.
"I'm sorry. I-I know humans don't do that so I-" She cut him off with a kiss, using the leverage from both her grip on his cowl, and the support of his arms, to pull herself up to meet his mouth. He eagerly returned it, pulling her flush with his body as he did so. She then reached up behind his head, under his fringe, to pull him down to her, smashing him harder against her lips. It had to hurt her, but she didn't care. It was brief, but it was so packed full of unsaid truths that he was left dizzy when she pulled away.
She didn't go far, however. Shepard cupped his scarred mandible, tracing her thumb along the broken line of blue before she flashed the kind of smile she only reserved for him. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting to hear that."
Garrus blinked at her. "You knew?" And damned if he was rendered unable to keep his second set of vocals from thrumming emotionally around his words.
She nodded. "Read it about it while doing all that 'research.' I had hoped, but I wanted to hear you say it when you were ready." She laughed softly. "Call me the closet romantic, I guess."
"It doesn't scare you?"
"Why would it scare me?"
"I wanted to tell you- Spirits, so many times- but you were under so much stress during the war. I didn't want to add to it by making you feel locked down to me. I didn't want you to feel... stuck with me if you ever wanted to... you know... find someone else." He tried not to wince at the pain that just saying the words brought on.
Trusting the grip he had on her waist, she cupped both mandibles now and gave him an intense look. "Garrus Vakarian, I could never feel 'stuck with you.'" A longing keen thrummed from his second voice box. He couldn't help it and he was too emotional to feel bashful about it either. "It's different for humans, yeah, but it's not any less meaningful. When humans take a partner, we commit ourselves to them. It takes work and it's not always easy, but when we find someone we can't imagine living without, it's worth it."
Shepard reached for the back of his head again and pulled him down to press his brow against hers. Her breath ghosted against his face when she went on to tell him: "I escaped a pretty shitty existence when I joined the Alliance. Leaving Earth was like escaping a prison." The corners of her eyes crinkled when she smiled brightly again. "Then this intrepid turian came swaggering into my life and made me realize just how much I'd been missing. I've already experienced a life without him in it." Her lips caressed his left mandible lightly. His breath caught in his throat. "So I can say-" Her mouth traveled to his right mandible. He was growling softly now, but not for anger. "-For a fact, that I never want to live without that turian again." She kissed his mouth then, hard, and when she pulled away again it was only far enough to still allow her lips to brush his plating as she said, "You're worth it."
The wall of the comm-chamber roughly met her back when he shoved her against it.