Chapter 7: Justice
The Justicar Samara sat in a meditative pose, saying nothing and with her eyes closed, as Garrus looked out the window of the shuttle launched from the Normandy. Seeing the ship fade into the distance, he looked upon a familiar sight he had not seen in many years: Palaven, the Turian homeworld.
To species such as Humans or Asari, Palaven could be a forbidding place. High levels of radiation permeated the surface since the core was only weakly magnetic, offering less insulation from solar radiation. Because of that, Turians were not the only creatures on their planet to have developed exoskeletons for their protection. In a dangerous galaxy, a strong carapace had proven to be an asset, but it was also much more than that.
While Turians lacked the diversity of appearance that some other species enjoyed, they had developed their own ways to identify themselves. Garrus ran his hand across the dark blue tattoo on his face, a sign of the home world he had not mentioned in many years. He would not say it today either, but Palaven was like a second home as he had served his military service in defense of his people.
Like his compatriots, boot camp began at 15 years old, and Garrus had distinguished himself for his marksmanship and his ability to follow orders. He thought wryly on that, as it was these traits that led to his placement in C-Sec, a posting desired by many Turians in the past, but that had ultimately shown him that there was more than just hierarchy and orders.
"It is never easy to return home, is it?" asked Samara, stirring Garrus from his contemplation. He had noticed her paying attention, but she looked upon him with those judging eyes, which made him feel like he had said too much even though he had said nothing at all.
The Turian decided to open the conversation, seeking to better understand his partner for this mission, "I think of duty when I come to Palaven. I grew up here, learned to handle my weapon and myself, and learned how I was supposed to behave."
The Asari nodded, "The life of a justicar is not so different." She looked out the window and out upon Palaven as they were entering the atmosphere. "I have visited this world before, though it has been some time. It was after the Krogan Rebellion, and I remember the Primarchs understanding my code."
Garrus was surprised the Asari would know someone so powerful, "It must have been quite the honor to meet a Primarch, Justicar."
"Please, I am only Samara now." Seeing his confusion, she explained, "When I took the oath of submission to Shepard, I gave up my code until such time as the oath is rescinded."
Vakarian nodded as he understood a special accommodation had been made, but he was curious about the details, "I don't know much about the Code of the Justicar, but I had thought your agreement was to help Shepard until the Collector threat was completed."
"That is correct," was her plain answer.
"So, you are no longer bound by your oath, then", inquired Vakarian.
Samara chose her words carefully, "That is incorrect. In my determination, the Collector threat and the Reaper threat are one and the same, so I will continue to serve Commander Shepard until the Reapers have been extinguished."
"And your codes allow you such discretion?" asked Garrus.
"I have been making judgments for several hundred years. Although the Code governs how a Justicar must live, it would only work by having supreme confidence in those of us who have taken our vows, and who follow our duties."
She paused as she searched for the words to explain her decision. Samara had been enjoying an interesting time since joining Shepard, as she found herself doing things she hadn't done since she was a maiden. She had friends, and while she would never be a freewheeling mercenary, with the Ardat-Yakshi now under control, her perspective on life had shifted.
"The Code is designed to ultimately promote justice, and protect the innocent and weak. I can think of no greater duty than to protect those who live from those who would kill them simply for their being, and that is the enemy we face." Curious for his reaction, she continued, "Do you not agree?"
Garrus confessed, "I've done a lot of killing. It seems like for every bad guy that gets taken down, two others pop up. We killed Saren, to discover Sovereign. We killed Sovereign to discover the Collectors. We eliminate the Collectors, and now there is a Reaper fleet. Maybe all there is in the end are the living and the dead." His own words haunted Garrus, but he had learned much.
As a security officer and a prospective Specter, he saw how bureaucracy didn't face the challenges that sat before them. As a vigilante, he saw how even the best efforts of Archangel did nothing to change the system. Bad men were killed, yet they were easily replaced, and how much did anything change.
Samara shook her head, and spoke serenely, "Garrus, there is justice. It is hard, but it begins with how you live. The world is not just. It will not be just. We cannot make it just. But, we can be just ourselves."
Garrus was dubious, "I don't know what justice that would be, my friend. I have watched that justice, and it is why I do not make those decisions for myself."
Samara smiled her mysterious smile. "We all doubt ourselves. I have the Code to make things easier for me. But it is in how we live that justice is found. And you should know as well as anyone, we cannot escape the decisions we make. Deciding life and death is never easy."
The Turian inclined his head slightly in acknowledgement as the planet surface quickly approached now. He found himself thinking of Sidonis, and what trust and justice had meant then. He should have died, but lived thanks to Shepard. Leniency, mercy, redemption. These were not Turian virtues, and yet, did he not have a second chance himself? The Humans lived on the edge of chaos, were murderers and liars, and yet there was a place for redemption. He would have to believe in that, especially here in all places.
With the help of the Citadel Councilor, it had been arranged for Garrus to speak before a gathering of the Primarchs. While not everyone could attend in person, the Turians responsible for each of their colonies would be present in some form, and they would have the opportunity to learn more about the nature of the Reaper threat from his briefing. It was an immense honor, but one Vakarian felt himself unequal to receiving, and wishing he did not have to undertake.
When he was last on Palaven, he was a confident, even cocky young man. Now he had been tempered by battle. He could lead men in a fight, but he was not one who was accustomed to leading with words. Perhaps that was why Shepard had sent the justicar with him, he mused.
As the shuttle approached the dock at the government building where they would be hosted, the sharpshooter thought it was funny how he would be treated as a guest on his own homeworld, staying in a place filled with foreigners and dignitaries.
He had no doubt everything would run smoothly. Unlike Humans, Asari, or many other races, the Turians valued and respected having a natural order to things. Public service was considered a genuine honor, and the best males and females were chosen to be administrators. This would be as true for the military as the diplomatic core. While it was not always that way, exposure to the galaxy had shaped the Turians into a more flexible and progressive society, recognizing words could matter as much as actions. The core of Turian life remained the same, however, the society before the individual.
Unfortunately, it would be just one more thing to make Garrus stand out at home, as he had made himself exceptional as an individual, specifically because he didn't follow proper orders. It was something of which he was not proud, even as he believed he did the right things. The destruction of the Collector base had proven as much, but it was still difficult to fight his own nature and training. It was difficult to be himself.
The time for thinking had passed, as the vessel had now reached its destination. With a soft whirring sound, the walkway was connected, and the hatch was opened. Garrus departed first with Samara following behind him, and there was a single female waiting for him. Marked with the insignia of the Engineer Corps, she was part of the military as were most public officials.
"Welcome to Palaven. The Councilor had told us to expect you. My name is Nehria, and I will be here to assist you with whatever you need while you stay."
"Thank you," replied Garrus. "Can you show us to our quarters?"
"Certainly. Please follow me."
Nehria appeared to be around thirty years of age as best Garrus could tell, but it had been a while since he had been back home. While other species sometimes had a difficult time identifying male and female Turians, the horns on the head made it obvious which was which. Her green scales and white tattoo showed she was native born to Palaven.
As befit the nature of her position, she would probably be more outgoing than a Turian naturally would act amongst their own, but she walked with confidence and knew her duty.
As they walked through a corridor, Garrus could see thousands of Turians walking around. Though there were Asari, Volus, and others as well, it had been years since he had seen so many of his own people. It should have felt familiar, but it seemed strange. He did not know home as he once did, and wanted to try to connect once more.
"Nehria, what is the big news on Palaven these days?"
She continued to walk as she answered, "Right now, there are no major issues." She hesitated a moment before continuing, "There are always those who think we work too closely with other races, especially the Humans, but they are a minority."
Animosity between the Systems Alliance and the Turian Hierarchy stemmed from the Relay 314 Incident. While the Turians had been following orders established by the Citadel to attack anything that emerged from any gate, the previously unknown Humans fought back. When a Turian fleet forced the human colony of Shanxi to surrender, they attacked back in force resulting in many deaths for the Turians, and the eventual imposition of an indemnity on the hierarchy by the Council.
Though relations had thawed considerably, there were still many who remembered those fights, including some who were now Primarchs and decision makers within the hierarchy. While they were all allies on the same Council, time had not yet healed all wounds.
"Would you say we are at risk?" asked Garrus, thinking of his own role as an intermediary between the two species. He had no intention of becoming a hostage, but knew he could be a symbol.
Nehria's reply had obvious disdain, "I don't think anyone would dare disobey the orders of the Hierarchy that you are to be protected. Even when we disagree, we don't fight amongst one another." She looked back at Garrus and said, "You have been gone a long time, if you forgot that much."
The Turian who had spent the better part of the last few years in alien space said, "It is a different world out there. Have you been off planet?"
"No, I have not yet. But I will if it is asked of me," she responded with pride, even enthusiasm. However, it was impossible to tell if this was because she wanted to travel or because she was doing her duty.
Samara chose to enter the conversation at this time, saying, "The Turian commitment to duty is commendable. It will make what must be done easier, I suspect."
Nehria offered no reply other than a faint smile. She continued to walk toward a complex, shielded from the drier air and metallic tinge that was natural to Turians but less comfortable to many other races. There were more aliens around here, and you could see shops tailoring to different needs. Most common were restaurants. As Turians were based on dextro-amino acids, their dietary needs were quite different than most of the other sentient races in the galaxy. For this reason, there were many foreign restaurants here, but most parties did not include Turians.
They continued walking until they reached an apartment building. Nehria swiped her omni-tool before an elevator, and the door opened.
"You'll be staying on the top floor, which I hear has an excellent view of the capital."
The elevator quickly had them atop the building, and they enjoyed a spacious apartment that was furnished in a tasteful style. Turian design was more functional than most, but there were facilities and food available for a range of species there, and it was obvious this place had been used for diplomatic missions before.
Samara offered her appreciation, "This is a very generous accommodation by the Hierarchy. Please let them know we are most grateful." She offered a bow to Nehria.
Garrus thought it would probably unnecessary to let them know. As a society based on the collective good rather than the individual, the Turians considered privacy less of a concern than others. In short, this room was certainly bugged and there would be nothing that would happen on this world without the notice of the Hierarchs. As much as he had become a private individual, this part did not bother him, as he saw it simply as the way things were.
"I will be nearby if you need anything. The Primarchs will be meeting tomorrow afternoon, so I will take my leave if you have no need of me until then." Nehria dipped her head, and then left her room when no response had followed.
The Asari examined the room, looked out the window, and said, "So do you feel like you are home, Garrus Vakarian?"
Garrus thought about it, and said, "This isn't my home anymore, the Normandy is. But, it is a nice apartment."
"Yes, it is that." Samara remained restrained with her words, but she sat before a window in a lotus position and allowed herself to take in the essence of this new place.
While the Asari centered herself, Vakarian looked around the room in more detail. He sat down to the terminal to check his messages. Finding nothing there, Garrus looked at some extranet bookmarks featured. He noticed there were bookmarks for different government agencies, as well as for Copper Untinged, a local restaurant that catered especially to Turians.
It was surprising to find a bookmark for Turian cooking on a diplomatic console, but thinking on how long it had been since he enjoyed proper Turian cooking, Garrus wanted to take advantage of the opportunity.
"Samara," he called out to his companion.
She took a moment before registering his request. "Yes?"
"How about I take you out for a proper Turian meal tonight, and you can return the favor on Thessia?" He was curious to see her response.
"You might have to promise dessert, but I will be happy to come." Asari couldn't eat Turian food as they both knew, but the chance at companionship was worth having a meal or two, and a long day waited for them tomorrow.
Garrus smiled back and said, "It's a date, then. I will tell Nehria as well, so she doesn't get into trouble."
He sent a message via his omni-tool to inform their new acquaintance of the dinner plans, receiving a reply that she would be happy to escort them there.
With a few hours to spend until then, Samara returned to her meditations, and Garrus went to examine his weapon. Since he could only carry one as a guest, he felt a little exposed, but he wasn't worried about any threats on this world.
He was also thinking that was more than some of the other team members could say, as he wondered how they would do on their given assignments.
Author's Note: I did quite a bit of research to try to understand what Palaven would be like, so I hope the description is believable. We're going to be jumping around character for quite a few chapters now, and it may take a while longer to post because it requires me to read quite a bit to write. Reviews are always welcome, and I hope you enjoy getting a chance to see the focus on some characters we don't always cover as much.