"Shepard, you can just tell me where you want to go. You don't have to—"

"Shhh, Joker. Relax. In through the nose, out through the mouth."

"It's just that we've been sitting here for—"

"Zip it, Joker."

"But—"

"Zip it."

"Look, all I'm trying to say is—"

"Plot a course to the Zip It Relay. It's located just inside of the Be Quiet For One Damn Second star system."

"...Really?"

"Yes, really. That's a real place."

"See, I'm almost positive you're messing with me—and screw you, if you are—but some of these star systems have pretty stupid names. It's like they started running out of ideas. Beach Thunder. Preying Mouth..."

"No way."

"Seriously, look them up! Trident, Watchman, J.J. Abrams, Michael Bay.."

"Beach Thunder sounds pretty badass. Let's go there!"

"I thought we were going to Palaven."

"Palaven's largest moon, actually. And, no, we're not going."

"Why not?"

"Because we've got Reapers literally smashing all sentient life into paste and the Council still doesn't take me seriously. Fine. Whatever. I've got bigger and better things to do."

"Well... what's more important than saving the galaxy?"

"You'd be surprised..."

"You know, this Primarch might be worth saving."

"If you gotta bribe people to save their own lives, they're not worth saving."

"Wow, that was... surprisingly negative."

"That's what I was going for."

"I bet Garrus'll be disappointed to hear we aren't coming."

"What's huh? Garrus?"

"Yeah, Garrus is down on that moon with the Primarch."

"Says who! How do you know this? Did you talk to him?"

"Yes."

"Ask him why no one visited me in prison!"

"I lost contact with him a few hours ago. I think things are pretty bad down there."

"Fine, fine. Set a course for Menae as soon as possible."

"Roger that, Commander. Plotting—"

"Now, hold on a minute there, Jeffery. You know the drill."

"Shepard, you can just tell me where you want to go! You don't—"

"Zip it." Shepard manipulated the galaxy map, moving the little representation of the Normandy across the star system to the nearest mass relay. "Almost there..." Before the Normandy made it to the relay, the entire galaxy map flashed red. The hologram dissolved. In its place was a small bird that chirped once and attempted to attack the little Normandy.

"Zubat again?"

"Nope. Pidgey this time."

Commander Shepard is Easily Distracted

"Don't Hate. Just Calibrate."

The salarian crumpled over, his hands clutching a wound on his gut, the echo of a gunshot still rattling around the alleyway. He muttered a few curses, spitting blood with each syllable. Already, his brown skin was looking remarkably pale.

A shadow moved over the salarian just then: globular and tentacled, shifting and writhing in anticipation of the kill.

"Please, no!" the salarian pleaded, though it looked to pain him terribly to say anything. "I was just following orders..."

Blasto hovered out of the shadows, brandishing an M-77 Paladin heavy pistol. One of the hanar's tentacles casually flicked up and ejected the thermal clip. "This one believes you have picked the wrong employer."

"Wait! I-I can help you! I'll tell you everything you want to know!"

"Tell it to the Enkindlers."

Shots rang out. The salarian's cries were silenced. Garrus spilled his dextro-amino popcorn.

"Oh, God!" he cried out. "I didn't think he'd do it!"

Some of the patrons in the cinema shushed at him. Garrus responded by chucking a few popcorn kernels in their direction.

"Will you stop that?" Shepard snapped through a whisper. "Not everyone likes your running commentary."

"Sorry. I'm sorry." Garrus gathered up his popcorn bag and adjusted his 4D glasses. "But did you see that? Blasto shot the only guy who could lead him to the Boss! How's he gonna avenge his girlfriend's death now?"

"Blasto always has an ace up his sleeve."

"Or, as it says on the poster: He always has an ace up his sleeve. All seven of them!" Garrus shoved some more popcorn into his mouth. "I love this goddamn movie."

"I know we promised each other that we'd watch all of the Blasto movies," Shepard said, "but I think they're running out of ideas for these sequels."

"Running out of bad ideas, more like," Garrus corrected. "Blasto finally finds love. Tells her his soul name before she's viciously murdered by an asari sand cartel. Path of destruction. Wham, bam, take my money."

Shepard turned to cast a confused stare at the turian. "Yeah, but that's pretty much the plot of Blasto 3: The Enforcer."

"Except this one is in 4D." Garrus happily tapped a talon against his glasses. "There's a difference."

There was a difference, however small. 4D technology allows a moviegoer to view the entire film through a dilation field, so that by the time the credits begin to roll, you'll have actually already watched the movie at varied speeds, which break down infinitesimally in such a manner that a singularity is created. Essentially, the movie is perceived through a black hole.

As such, you never stop watching the film, and you never really start. The movie is perceived and unperceived for as long as the moviegoer wears the glasses. Forever and never.

"Totally worth the extra five credits," Garrus said through a mouthful of popcorn. "Thank you, James Cameron."

"I don't know." Shepard took off his glasses, subsequently unwatching the movie. He quickly replaced them, and watched Blasto 6 for several more eternities. "Seems like a gimmick."

"Oh, stop." Garrus excitedly pointed at the screen. "Look! He found the asari Boss!"

"Told you he would."

"Shh."

"But you were the one talk—"

"Shh."

"This one is unable to comprehend the reality that it was you all along, Melena," Blasto said, lowering his Paladin.

"Yes, it was me all along! Melena! Your old flame from many years ago! I wasn't good enough for you to learn your soul name, so I killed the one who was: your new girlfriend."

"It believes this sequence of events to be unfortunate!"

Garrus awed, his mandibles swaying with excitement. "Oh, man..."

"Now," Melena said, raising a shotgun while Blasto's guard was down, "I'll make sure no one else can ever learn your soul name!"

Shepard flinched. "That's an awful lot of exposition right there."

"Shh."

Blasto dodged the initial shot by stretching himself into an arch, and then shot Melena through the chest with his Paladin.

"No!" Melena shouted. "This cannot be!"

"This one shall provide you the honor of learning its soul name." Blasto hovered down to Melena and whispered something inaudible into her ear. Garrus leaned forward, as if to listen more closely.

"It's... It's a beautiful name," Melena remarked. "But... why?"

"So that this one's girlfriend will know who sent you into the afterlife."

Gunshot. Cut to black. The credits began to roll.

Garrus threw himself onto his feet, throwing popcorn everywhere, and began to applaud while the rest of the cinema lethargically filed out through the exits. "Yes! Amazing! That was, like... ten times better than The Goddessfather: Part Three."

Shepard took off his glasses and rubbed the tension from his eyes. "I'd forgotten why I don't go to the movies with you. Now I remember. And emotional scarring doesn't go away."

"Lighten up," Garrus said, removing his glasses, as well. "Wait... Is the movie about to start, or did we just finish it?"

"I don't know, actually." Shepard strained to remember. "I know some time has passed, but the movie itself was a bit of a blur. Reminds me of when we saw the new Transformers movie."

"Even I didn't care for that one."

Shepard stood from his seat and stretched, groaning every inch of the way. "So, that wasn't very fun. What now?"

"Wanna watch it again?"

"No."

"Hmm." Garrus scratched the top of his crest, absently humming to himself as he thought. "Um... Oh! I got it."

–

Shepard rolled his eyes at Garrus when they arrived. "The asari Consort?"

"What?" Garrus shrugged. "Bad idea?"

"Well, firstly: the waitlist is probably going to be at least three years."

The receptionist nodded. "Three years and eleven months," she confirmed.

"Right. See?" Shepard sighed. "The galaxy probably won't be here in a week, but still no one's canceling their appointments." He turned back to Garrus. "Secondly: no, it's not a good idea."

"Hmm." Garrus thought some more. "What about..."

–

"Garrus, we're still at the Consort Chambers."

"Wait!" Garrus exclaimed with a snap. "I've got a better idea."

They returned to their X3M aircar and Garrus took them up into the ring of traffic through the Presidium. He drove with some abandon; weaving through cars without signaling, speeding, tailgating, blasting music only he would appreciate out into the open for all to hear.

"You're a terrible driver, Garrus," Shepard said.

"A unique driver," replied Garrus.

"Where we going?"

"Somewhere we're not supposed to." Garrus took the aircar higher. "Ever have that one thing you always wanted to do before you died, Shepard?"

"Like, before the last time I died, or this time?"

"Why do you take every opportunity to point out that you died? Yes, this time. What's the one thing you've always wanted to do?"

"Convince the Council to stop the Reapers."

"Besides that."

Shepard gave himself a moment to come up with a better answer. "I don't know. I can't think of anything. What's yours?"

"The whole time I worked at C-Sec, I'd stare up at the top of the Presidium and say to myself: I want to go up there." The turian chuckled to himself. "But I never did. There were 137 regulations telling me I couldn't."

"Hm." Shepard grinned. Hearing Garrus complain about C-Sec sent his memories crawling back to a time when Saren was their biggest problem in the galaxy. "I miss regulations."

"Fist, the Shadow Broker, and Dr. Heart were the only three investigations on my list before you showed up. Five years later, and I might have a say in whether or not the entire galaxy will be destroyed. There are some who'd say that making introductions with you was a bad idea in retrospect."

"Was it?" Shepard asked.

"Was it a bad idea? Yes, definitely, a hundred times over. If someone wanted that in print, I'd type it up and sign it right now." Garrus took the aircar down on top of one of the Presidium causeways. The navigation computer complained about the illegal maneuver, but he switched it off. "But would I make the same choice again? Yes, I definitely would. A hundred times over."

Shepard felt an overwhelming feeling of pride brewing up inside. He'd never give Garrus the satisfaction of hearing it—at least, not yet—but he was honored to have a friend in the turian. If Shepard's life was destined to trail off into an unknowable darkness, then his friendships would be all to keep it illuminated until all the lights went out forever.

"It's my fault," Shepard said. "I should've let you know beforehand what you were signing up for."

"Somehow I doubt even you knew what we were getting into, Shepard. And that, above all else, is why I admire you."

"Thanks, Garrus."

The turian moved to exit the aircar, but turned back when he had the door opened. "We're not going back for the Primarch, are we? That was all a lie."

Shepard nodded. "No, we're not. Yes, it was."

"Can I convince you to... I don't know... rethink your position on that?"

"Nah, I'm pretty dead set on this one."

Garrus sighed. "I've learned to stop questioning your judgment, so I'll just voice my hesitation here and leave it at that."

"Noted." Shepard smiled and opened his own door. "I always have an ace up my sleeve."

"Both of them," the turian added, happily.

Garrus exited the aircar and walked out onto the causeway, a bottle in his hand. Shepard followed.