Chapter Five: Brothers in Arms

James paused at the elevator doors. The moment they opened, the space was flooded with sound. The mess hall echoed with music he hadn't heard since...well, since he was a kid back on Earth. Turning the corner, he found the mess empty and the doors to the main battery wide open. Machine parts were strewn through the corridor, and he was pretty damned sure he could hear Garrus singing along to "Call Me Irresponsible."

The marine poked his head into the battery for a cursory glance. The Shepard VI was switched on and projecting from EDI's old AI platform. Not from the transmitter box. It was looking at him like it knew he was there, sharp eyes focus, face expressionless. All he needed was-

"Lieutenant Vega reporting."

-that. He thought he knew how Garrus had felt the week before, now. Hearing Shepard's voice like she was standing right there was enough to scare the piss out of even the most seasoned soldier. And Vega was seasoned. He'd faced down Reapers and won. Three Brutes all at once...though he owed that more to a utility belt full of grenades...but he wasn't about to tell anyone that.

"EDI, volume!" The music diminished almost immediately as Garrus came up from the lower level wiping grime from his hands with a rag. He was dressed in turian casuals, clothes that did very little to distinguish themselves from battle armor in cut and style. There was probably a reason for it—in the shape of freakish collarbones—but what did he know?

"I came to see if you wanted to go for a hike," James said, leaning casually against the door jamb with his hands in his pockets. "EDI found a higher point of elevation within walking distance."

Garrus tossed the rag onto his workbench. "And what does an AI with mechanical legs consider walking distance?"

"Ten miles and a cliffside climb."

"Cortez doesn't have the shuttle running yet, does he?"

"Nope."

"Figures." The turian took a look around the battery to sort out the mess he had made. "I was looking for parts. Anything unnecessary that we might be able to use for something else." His eyes took on an almost pained expression. "A lot of it is from the Cerberus upgrades."

James knelt to sort through one of the piles. Most of it was basic hardware, but there were enough bits and pieces to build a whole gun. Or fit the shuttle with a better one. "Steve is going to have a field day with this," he commented with a grin.

"EDI's been feeding him a running inventory. He was already up here pretty much foaming at the mouth to get his hands on something, but I told him to wait a while. Sam had already told me she had a few ideas so—unfortunately for Steve—she's got first dibs."

The marine tutted. "Is that why he was pacing like he were waiting for the world to end again?"

"Probably," Garrus replied with a shrug. "Could be more that he wants something to keep him busy than anything else." He looked to the Shepard VI. "Can't say that I blame him."

James got back to his feet. "Exactly. Which is why I came to find you just for this. You need to get out, away from the battery, away from the Normandy, and away from that." He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder at the VI in emphasis. "I worry about you, and more than a little of that comes from the fear that you're going a little loco. I mean...Frank Sinatra. Really?"

Garrus shrugged again. "Did you know Shepard had a ridiculously extensive music collection? Most of it was her father's, I think. And just about all of it should be in a museum." He typed something into his terminal and music started to play out of those speakers only. It wasn't Sinatra. This was different, an old and tinny recording. A melody was being played on what sounded like metal strings stretched over a pie tin.

I takes a worried man to sing a worried song.

I'm worried now, but I won't be worried long.

To the human's shock (and horror, possibly), the turian started singing along to the trio of easy tenors with fingers drumming away at the work bench in time to the beat. Stepping forward, James simultaneously clamped a hand on his friend's shoulder and canceled the classic recording.

"Like I said. Loco. Get your gear—we're going."

They packed light but took precaution to be ready for a few days if necessary. Bedrolls, rations, they even armored up a bit just in case they met something unsavory in the deeper jungle. James went for his N7 greaves and a t-shirt. Garrus donned his full suit minus the helmet. It was designed to be light and keep him cool and shielded from just about everything. Turians weren't just prepared for anything because they had a focus on martial skills. They were from Palaven, a planet that by all rights shouldn't properly support life. Born prepared. Raised to expect anything. Garrus jammed a thermal clip home and holstered his assault rifle, carefully choosing a sniper from the rack in the shuttle bay. James gave him a couple of odd looks and the gentle reminder that they weren't going off to war again. The turian just looked at him, recalibrated his omni-tool, and headed outside.

Samantha Traynor was standing by Steve near the shuttle. It was propped up on rocks and military-grade crates in order to be better serviced from underneath. The grass was trampled around their work zone from the repeated foot traffic, and tools were strewn all over the place. The two engineers were talking, arms crossed and faces serious, as they assessed the damage and what they had to work with. The truth was that it wasn't much. They knew it. They all knew it. And even with all the parts in the galaxy, they still had limited fuel supply and no idea where to go to find a Mass Relay.

"Yo, Esteban, you get the beacon for us?"

Steve turned, looking slightly irritated at first but softened when he saw Garrus walking beside James. "Yeah, I got it. Did you seriously think sticking it up that tree was going to do any good?"

James made a dismissive gesture. "You said put it somewhere high. That sycamore-looking thing was the best option at the time."

"Yeah, well. I guess that's what I get for asking a jarhead to do anything." Steve's eyes sparkled with amusement. "It's over by the med kits. Make sure to put it somewhere smart this time."

"That's what he's got me for," Garrus put in wryly, saluting a little. He turned to James when the other came back with the beacon's transmitter box. "I take it EDI's got all the instructions?"

The marine shook his head. "Already passed them on. She even managed to come up with some kind of map thanks to scans the ship was able to take. They're from our level, though, so things get sketchy a couple of miles out and the higher up we go." Truth was, all they had were elevation shifts. Nothing really for particular landmarks, the jungle itself, or any potential bodies of water. They were roughing it in a way neither really had to in a long while, and this was definitely not anything close to familiar just yet. They'd kept themselves limited to within a half-mile of basecamp. Ten unfamiliar miles was a long way to go in broad daylight let alone shadows and darkness.

When they had everything squared away, they set out, heading in a northerly direction toward a thickly forested mountain EDI had pegged as being the highest point in the region. Only one part of it was barren, a sheer wall of rock that was viewable even from this distance. A walk and a climb. That was the plan.

And they had no choice but to carry it out.