A/N – The positive response I've received to this story has encouraged me to continue with it. All constructive reviews welcome!
I've mixed and matched some of the earlier pre-Horizon dialogue options with Garrus to create a realistic conversation within the context of this story. I've kept the progression as accurate as I can, for the sake of authenticity. Also, my description of the Thanix cannon upgrades are drawn from the codex. There's a slight discrepancy between whether it can reliably fire every 15 seconds or every 5, so I've come up with my own answer to that. (Yes, I am just that pedantic.) Enjoy... :)
Miranda was not happy.
It wasn't a surprise, of course. Miranda was there to safeguard Cerberus interests, as well as observe the results of the Lazarus Project... and Shepard had just offered a convicted criminal free access to a significant chunk of sensitive Cerberus data. In Miranda's position, Shepard figured she'd be plenty pissed too. Even without having been taunted and mocked by aforementioned convicted criminal.
As soon as the Purgatory mission debrief had concluded, and Jack had stormed off to find the most isolated part of the ship to bunk down in, Miranda had shot Shepard a glare which could only be described as venomous, and requested a meeting. If a terse "my office, Shepard – now!" could be considered a request. Bearing in mind her resurgent desire to build some kind of alliance with Miranda, Shepard had concluded that having the bitchfest sooner rather than later would prevent letting emotions fester into irreparable hostility. But in the interests of reinforcing her position of authority, she left it an hour before heading down to Miranda's office.
Shepard now stood with arms crossed, an expectant expression directed at the Cerberus woman who was absently twitching at a stack of datafiles on her desk. Miranda seemed to be engaged in some internal debate as to how best to begin, as she took a series of controlled breaths. After a moment, Miranda lay her hands flat on her desk, and looked up at Shepard with a deliberately calm expression.
"I think you can guess how the Illusive Man will respond to this," the agent began, her accented voice carefully calm.
Shepard tilted her head in mild surprise. If Miranda genuinely wanted to discuss this, the conversation might be longer than a mere rant. In appreciation of the other woman's reasonableness, Shepard took the seat facing the desk.
Framing her response, the Commander decided on blunt honesty. "Of course. Nobody likes being caught with their hand in the cookie jar, and I think we both appreciate that's what happened here."
Miranda protested immediately. "The situation isn't how Jack represented it, Commander. Cerberus files indicate it was a splinter group that incarcerated Jack. It wasn't an approved project."
"Save it, Miranda," Shepard answered, waving her hand in sharp dismissal. "You are accountable for all uses of Cerberus funds, and failing to monitor that doesn't excuse your organisation from the ethical responsibility of what was done to Jack. But that's not the issue here." The Commander paused a moment to judge Miranda's response. The woman didn't look happy, but she evidently didn't have anything to counter that unpleasant reality, and appeared to settle for looking deeply disgruntled instead. "Kelly's already given me her 'expert' analysis of Jack's unstable psyche. You've probably already got the analysis downloaded to your desktop. Jack identifies Cerberus as her tormentors. We showed up in a Cerberus ship. How, exactly, would you suggest we build an alliance with her if we didn't give her the information she was after?"
It was an approach Shepard had found reasonably successful in her command experience on Alliance vessels. In non-combat situations, challenges to her orders were often handled best by seeming to ask for input from her people. In the end, she made the call, but a bit of diplomacy was useful for any commanding officer. When dealing with civilian allies like Miranda – and dubious allies at that – it could end up proving her most effective tool.
Miranda chewed on her bottom lip unhappily. "We can't give her unrestricted access, Shepard. That's asking too much."
"I agree." Shepard smiled slightly at Miranda's surprise. "But that's not what she wants. She only wants access to files relating to her past. Set her up with full access, and slap a filter on her login so she can only see anything relevant. Or are you saying she doesn't deserve to know the truth about what was done to her?"
At the sharply inquisitive stare Shepard levelled at her, Miranda sighed in frustration. "We can't just go handing about access to Cerberus databases... doing so would risk compromising our entire mission here. We don't know anywhere near enough about her," the Cerberus agent warned.
"Hmm. Yeah. Don't you find that strange?" It was a delicate push, but Shepard was curious to see how the young woman would respond. "The Illusive Man has decided Jack is exactly what we need to take out the Collectors, but what is that based on? The dossier doesn't give any real background info on her. It didn't even mention her past association with Cerberus. If he had intel suggesting we needed to take extra precautions with her, he'd have given it to us. There's no point blinding us without cause, is there?" The Illusive Man would have his reasons, of course. Even if it was just because he happened to be the galaxy's biggest asshole. But Miranda's loyalty to Cerberus came from a sort of blindness that ran counter to her entire character, and it made Shepard want to poke and prod at it. See where it came from. See if she could awaken it to reality.
But with a sudden shake of her head, Miranda appeared to regain her confidence. She straightened her shoulders stubbornly and lifted her chin. "Shepard, I appreciate that you don't trust Cerberus, or the Illusive Man. Your hostility is entirely understandable, given your past dealings with certain arms of the organisation. We aren't what you think we are. Cerberus does a lot of good for humanity, we're involved with charities on a large number of colonies, and our pharmaceutical R&D branches have had amazing success in curing any number of –"
Oh, hell, Shepard thought in exasperation. Jack's right. She really is a Cerberus cheerleader.
"Miranda, please. Cut the bad apple metaphor, it just won't wash." It may have come out a bit harsher than she'd intended it, but Shepard was satisfied to see the other woman cut off her PR spiel. She sighed. "Listen. All I'm saying is either you trust the Illusive Man's intel... in which case, Jack is a necessary part of this team, and we need to forge a relationship with her. You know damn well she'll just jump ship at the next planet we land on if we screw her over now. Right?"
The Cerberus agent hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. "Not that I'd regret seeing her leave, but yes."
Shepard smirked a bit at that admission. "So either you trust the Illusive Man's decision, and we do this to keep her onboard. Or you don't trust it, and I'll go back on my word, and we'll dump her on the next rock we come across."
It was a gamble, but Shepard was playing out the rope. She wanted to see what Miranda would do with it. The woman was looking awfully thoughtful, clearly puzzling her way through the dilemma. In all honesty, Shepard probably couldn't hack her way through the Cerberus databases on her own to keep her promise to Jack. She needed Miranda on side to make this happen. But better to make it seem a generous compromise than the unfortunate reality.
"I trust the Illusive Man," Miranda finally admitted. "But I don't..."
"You don't trust me."
The evasive shift of Miranda's eyes confirmed Shepard's blunt statement. The Commander leaned forward, planting her elbows on the desk between them. "Look, I'm not going to tell you Jack won't snoop. I'm sure she'll try. But you can monitor what she does, and lock her out the second you think you're being compromised. If this all blows up in our faces, you can give me the 'I told you so' speech. And if it doesn't... then maybe you can take another look at whether or not you want to trust my judgement. Because this isn't going to work if you second guess every decision I make."
Shepard watched the brunette wrestle with the idea, and kept her gaze steady on Miranda's intent dark eyes. She had taken onboard Garrus' remarks about building team loyalty, and Miranda was a lynch pin for that goal. The Cerberus agent was in a position to override Shepard's decisions if she wanted to, and no ship or mission could succeed with two commanders having a dick-waving contest. But if she could show Miranda that doing things her way would achieve results... if she could win that razor-sharp mind and steel will to her side... Where Miranda led, the Cerberus crew would follow, Shepard had no doubts of that.
After a long moment Miranda nodded slowly, clearly reluctant.
"Alright, Shepard. I don't like it, and I'm not going to pretend otherwise. But I'll give you a shot here. I hope we don't all regret this," she warned coolly, and twisted her chair to face back towards her computer monitor. Apparently, the meeting was over.
"We'll chat again soon," Shepard replied wryly. As she left the office, the Commander reflected that it might be a good idea to reinstitute her practice of holding post-mission chats with her main crew. It had served her well on the first Normandy, helping her to get to know her alien crew and understand what made them tick. It was, in fact, a fairly crucial part of her team building regime.
So. Time to go build some good team dynamics.
Miranda's office door closed behind her, and Shepard found herself heading almost automatically towards the main battery. Her destination wasn't decided solely on the basis of Garrus' immediate proximity. While it was true she already had a pretty good rapport with Garrus, she also wasn't blind to the fact that her friend was in a bad place after Omega. Since he was already familiar with her practice of random visits, he wouldn't find it at all suspicious if she stopped by just to check in.
Feeling a little bit smug about her own logic, Shepard passed by the galley, throwing a wave to Gardner and heading for the doors to the main battery. The doors were closed, which wasn't strictly necessary. It wasn't hard to guess that Garrus would prefer solitude and privacy on a Cerberus-run ship. The doors opened before her and she could see the turian at his workstation there, peering intently at whatever had been occupying him in there all day. Last she'd seen him, he'd been muttering over some calibrations.
Hearing the doors open behind him, the turian straightened and turned to face her. His expression relaxed into a welcoming shift of his mandibles.
"Shepard," he greeted pleasantly. "Need me for something?"
Making small talk with a turian was pretty simple. When it was Garrus, it was even easier. Just ask him about weapons. "Yeah. What can you tell me about the Normandy's armaments?" Shepard inquired with a glance over his shoulder at the station he'd been working at.
Garrus smirked at her, turian-style. "Looks like Cerberus upgraded what the ship carried before. Should have a bit more kick. I still don't like our chances against a Collector ship though. Not unless we upgrade the guns."
It matched Shepard's own assessment of the new Normandy's capabilities, so she nodded her agreement. They were the only two people on this ship who really knew what they were up against. They'd already faced the Collectors once before. It had destroyed the original Normandy, and Shepard, and even this new version of the vessel wouldn't stand up against them without some major improvements. But Garrus was watching her with a particularly bright gleam in his eyes, and there was something so knowing about it, that Shepard immediately relaxed.
"Have you got any upgrade ideas for the Normandy's weapons systems?" she inquired hopefully.
The knowing gleam brightened, and Garrus' manner turned immediately smug. "A few, yeah. Here, take a look."
Chuckling softly, Shepard stepped towards the console he indicated, and watched as his long three-fingered hands called up the specs of something called a Thanix Magnetic-Hydrodynamic Cannon. As the details on the weapon scrolled across the screen, Shepard found herself gripping the edge of the console to keep herself steady on her feet. This thing was practically a reaper weapon! She glanced up once, sharply, to meet Garrus' pleased gaze, and then snapped her attention immediately back to the screen.
The weapon held a massive element zero core, which powered the electromagnetic field which could be triggered to fire molten iron-uranium-tungsten alloy projectiles... every fifteen seconds with a reasonable degree of reliability, and every five seconds for pure impact value. Shepard was willing to bet her last thermal clip this technology had been reverse-engineered from the remnants of Sovereign that fell to the Citadel. She exhaled slowly and watched the weapon's stats for a moment longer. Well. There was no doubt it would give them a fighting chance against the Collectors... Sovereign's gun was a recurring personal nightmare for her, and the thought of taming it to her control gave her a perverse sense of pleasure.
Shepard stepped back slowly, keeping her eyes on Garrus. She'd had no doubt he'd be able to come up with something... but he had surpassed her expectations by leaps and bounds, and she let that impressed approval show in her face.
The turian closed the file and leaned back against his console, seeming uncharacteristically modest in the face of her appreciation. "Let me know when you've got the materials for me to upgrade our guns."
Garrus knew as well as she did that this would be a major overhaul. Shepard's mind reviewed the logistics of the upgrade. They'd have to spend a few solid days, maybe a week or two, hunting for mineral-rich planets to supply the raw elements necessary. The entire crew would be called on to manufacture and install the new weapon, maybe another two or three days sitting in a safe system while they did the EVA work to mount it on the Normandy... It would take a while, but once they secured the raw materials, it was eminently do-able. She smiled warmly at him, and saw him relax a little.
Shepard hadn't forgotten her main reason for stopping by, however. She kept her tone deliberately casual as she asked him, "so have the Cerberus crew been giving you any trouble?"
Garrus answered quickly to reassure her. "I think being part of the team that took down Saren got me some points. Everyone I talk to is polite anyway. Don't worry Commander. We're all working together."
Hmmm, Shepard reflected. In other words, they're ignoring him unless they have to, but at least they're not giving him shit or trying to slip levo-amino food into his dinner. Come to think of it, Shepard hadn't seen Garrus eating in public and wondered if he'd simply chosen to side-step the entire issue of non-lethal but uncomfortable anonymous poisoning by securing his food stores from the Cerberus crew. It was something he'd do. Obsessive, protective, borderline paranoid.
She grimaced at the reality that there was probably a need for it. The Cerberus crew were all playing happy families right now, but they were still Cerberus. Until they could adapt to having aliens onboard, there was a chance they'd do something rash due to their anti-alien prejudices.
Meanwhile, Garrus was regarding her expectantly. "Is there anything else, Commander?"
Shepard tilted her head to smile at him. "Actually, yeah. I don't want to interrupt. Have you got a minute to talk?" the Commander asked carefully, mentally steeling herself for an abrupt dismissal. Last time she'd asked this, he'd made some evasive comment about his calibrations and practically shoved her out the door.
Shepard watched him hesitate and, to her pleasure, Garrus shrugged and nodded.
"Sure. I was just checking the weapons systems," the turian replied diffidently.
From his borderline reluctance, Shepard figured he knew what she was after... that full disclosure he'd promised her on Omega... and she deliberately dropped her 'Commander' stance. Moving further into the main battery, Shepard felt his eyes tracking her behind the visor as she leaned casually on the rail which overlooked the Normandy's main drive system.
She watched him shut down the program he'd had running on the terminal when she came in, and lock off access to the fire control systems.
"You can never be too careful," the turian explained conversationally as he turned to watch her. "I thought I'd seen every weapon in the galaxy in our fight against Saren. Mercenary work showed me otherwise. And now Cerberus rebuilds the Normandy with a few... upgrades... to boot. I wish we'd joined up with them sooner."
Despite knowing that the delight in Garrus' expression was all for the new toys he was getting to play with, Shepard couldn't help but grimace at his choice of words. "We haven't joined Cerberus. They're funding our mission. That's all."
Immediately, he lifted his hand in a soothing gesture. "Relax, Shepard. Just a figure of speech."
Well, at least I'm 'Shepard' again, and not 'Commander', she thought wryly. Shepard made another grimace and deliberately relaxed back against the rail, saying nothing more. Garrus exhaled softly, dropping his gaze from hers to study the ground between them.
"Besides, it's not like I can question your judgement. Not after I got my own squad killed."
The woman could feel her shoulders tense at his softly bitter rejoinder. Despite her curiosity about the events leading to his situation on Omega, Shepard had promised herself she wouldn't pry. Garrus was her friend, and she owed him the chance to process events on his own. Yet here he was, laying it out before her like an offering... or an admission. The Commander hesitated a long moment, before she asked him quietly, "how did you end up fighting mercenaries here on Omega?"
Garrus took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I went back to C-Sec after the Normandy was destroyed... but with all the rebuilding at the Citadel, there was too much chaos for me to really help." He shook his head. "Omega was filled with criminals that nobody else could touch. And there was no red tape to slow me down. It was a perfect fit. People there needed someone to believe in. Someone to stand up to the local thugs."
His flanging voice was filled with an intensity Shepard was hard pressed to identify. Yearning. Satisfaction. It wasn't hard to imagine the relief a displaced, younger Garrus would have felt at being able to make a visible dent in such a high-crime location. The Commander watched him move restlessly, pacing the length of the main battery.
"That explains how you started. How'd you end up with a squad?"
To her surprise, he chuckled softly. "Not too different from how you formed your squad to fight Saren, actually. You prove that you get things done, and people join up. Mercs who wanted to atone. Security consultants tired of playing by the rules." Garrus met her eyes with a kind of miserable pride. "I gave them hope!" The turian folded in on himself; his eyes fell dully to the ground. "Now they're dead. Shows what I know."
There was an ache in her chest to see her friend like this. A part of Shepard wanted desperately to bury the conversation, stop poking and prying at these raw wounds and let him heal in solitude. Another part of her knew that this sense of failure would cripple him. It had to be drawn out, the wound lanced and the poison dealt with. "Tell me about your squad," she commanded gently.
There was resistance, but the habit of obeying her was apparently too deeply ingrained. With a sigh, Garrus answered her. "There were twelve of us, including me. Former military operatives, C-Sec agents... the usual. I had a salarian explosives expert... pretty sure he'd spent time in the Special Tasks Group. My tech expert was a batarian, believe it or not. Not the friendliest guy, but he could hack any system ever built."
Shepard tilted her head in consideration. With a team like that behind him, there was a lot he could have done; a lot of ways to misuse the power. "What did your merc squad do? It didn't sound like you were available for hire."
"You saw Omega," Garrus answered, mandibles flaring in disgust. "It was full of thugs kicking the helpless. I formed my team to kick back. We weren't mercenaries... at least, nobody was paying us. We made money by taking down pirates, slavers, or gangs that went too far."
She straightened up, her expression suddenly concerned. "It sounds like you were just another gang..."
"Then I'm saying it wrong." Garrus looked frustrated, and went back to pacing the small area. "We didn't shake anyone down. No civilian casualties. That was our rule. Every member of my team had lost someone to Omega's gangs. We weren't out to get rich. We were out to make those bastards think twice before murdering someone in the street." The frustration was rolling off him in waves. The flanging quality of his voice was almost obscured by the not-quite-defensive ferocity.
Listening to him, Shepard relaxed in relief. She could never doubt Garrus' word. It wasn't just turian honour that ensured his honesty; it was some indefinable integrity that was a core part of who he was. She was more relieved than she could admit to find that his integrity hadn't been corrupted by Omega.
"Well, it doesn't sound like you made any friends of the gangs," Shepard responded in backhanded compliment.
The old Garrus arrogance peeked through for a moment."I got three separate merc bands to work together to take me down. My manager at C-Sec would be impressed. It was simple. We'd hit their shipments, disrupt activities, get under their skin. Make them angry." His voice had dropped to that low turian drawl that was almost a purr as Garrus sidestepped into his happy place. "They'd come charging right into our carefully prepared kill zone. Crossfire and snipers. Clean and surgical. They never stood a chance."
It was impressive, no doubt about it. But had she really expected anything less? In terms of tactical knowledge, and combat skill, Garrus was nothing short of brilliant. If that alone had been the criteria, he would have rocketed up the ranks of C-Sec and made Spectre easily. It was always the political side that tripped him up, though. The part that couldn't play the games, that couldn't bite his tongue and ignore corruption in any measure. In a way, Shepard was a bit flattered to have his loyalty. It said something about her, if this was the quality of ally she attracted. But even she had to shake her head over the stubborn nobility that saw him eying up a floating bucket of villainy and deciding he was the man to clean it up.
There was something about Garrus that reminded her of a sheriff in the wild west vids. It was true, she'd worried he had rejected everything she'd tried to teach him... and on the surface it might seem to be the case. But the truth was, he hadn't. If he'd pulled a stunt like this on the Citadel, she'd have probably beat the living shit out of him. Instead, he'd taken the lateral approach. Found a place where the 'rules' only enforced abuse and mistreatment, and sought to establish a new way of living. That he had to do it by the gun wasn't something she could fault him for. His intentions, and even his methods, fell in line with the philosophy she'd tried to teach him. It appeared he had taken that to heart, in his own unique way.
Garrus had been dangerous enough when he was all reckless enthusiasm and blunt determination. Now, coupled with leadership ability and a goal-oriented outset, he was damned near lethal. So what had gone wrong?
"How did those mercenary gangs take down your team?" She saw him flinch back from the question, and almost regretted asking it. Almost. But he needed to tell her, as much as she needed to know.
Garrus turned away, walking slowly towards the open doorway. "It was my own damn fault. One of my people betrayed me."
Shepard followed slowly, a few feet behind. Even from here, she could see the intensity radiating from him. Anger straightened his shoulders, clenched his three-fingered hands into taloned fists. Garrus was shaking his head almost savagely and his stalk down the corridor outside the main battery was stiff-legged and graceless with tension. "A turian named Sidonis," he spat. "He drew me away, just before the mercs attacked my squad. Then he disappeared. Everyone except me is dead because of him." Garrus turned to face her, lights flaring off his scope. "And because I didn't see it coming."
Commander Shepard shook her head. "I'm not sure I understand. What happened, exactly?"
There was something savage and almost feral visible in the one eye she could see clearly. Shepard didn't for a moment doubt it was matched in equal measure in its partner obscured behind his visor. Garrus was remembering all too vividly the events that led up to the loss of his team, his friends, his allies.
"Sidonis asked for my help on a job. When I got to the meeting point, nobody was there. By the time I got back to our hideout, the mercs had killed all but two of my squad. And they didn't last long..."
Her eyes flicked instantly to the last two names carved into his visor. How easily she could picture this turian pinned down in their retreat, using the spare moments between attacks to furiously carve their names into the one thing he could feel confident he'd always have with him. She'd never seen Garrus without that visor; she had a pretty strong suspicion he even slept with it on. "Are you sure it was a betrayal?" Shepard asked carefully. Her eyes were stuck on that crossed-out name. "Maybe they took Sidonis out first?"
But Garrus shook his head sharply. "No. I put out feelers with some old contacts. He booked transport off Omega just before the attack. He also cleared out his private accounts before he left." The turian's sharp teeth were visible as he snarled, "he sold me out and ran."
Well, not a lot of ambiguity in that, Shepard reflected with an internal wince. Part of the benefit of working in the military was that that kind of betrayal wasn't really a possibility – or if it happened, it tended to end with court martials or, in times of war, a single lethal shot to the head.
This, on the other hand, was an entirely different situation indeed. It didn't take a genius to work out that Garrus was carrying a metric shitload of unresolved fury over what had happened. The practical part of the Commander recognised that it could take Garrus' focus and attention away from the mission at hand – and if that happened at a critical moment, more people could die. The part of Shepard that was his friend worried that he would let the guilt and anger eat him up, turn him into something bitter and... not the Garrus Vakarian she knew.
There was really only one way to ensure that didn't happen, she decided quite calmly. Find Sidonis now and deal with this issue. "Do you know where Sidonis is now?" Shepard asked and deliberately kept her voice calm. Garrus was a private man, and not one to appreciate her trying to help in a personal matter unless he asked first.
"No," he replied eventually. "His trail vanishes after he left Omega. But I'll keep hunting. I lost my whole team, except for Sidonis. One day I'll find him... and correct that."
A delicate shiver ran down her spine at the savage ferocity of his manner, the sharp brutality of his snarl. It wasn't hard in that moment to remember that turians had all the physical features of the apex predator; their bodies were built for hunting and killing. The savage teeth to rip at flesh, the razor-sharp claws to rend and kill.
As if belatedly realizing that he had revealed more than he had intended, Garrus turned away abruptly. He lay his hands flat against the console and they looked large and lethal against the human-made technology. "Thanks for coming by, Shepard. I've got some things to take care of," he advised and the dismissal was clear. She could read the tension in his frame even from behind, and Shepard knew she could push... for more information; for a demand that he not do anything rash, or without consulting her...
But doing so would alienate him from the one person he trusted on this ship. There were simply too many issues involved in this, and Shepard wasn't prepared to risk provoking him over this yet.
In the end, she simply had to trust that if he found Sidonis - when the time came - he would speak to her first. And if she couldn't trust him to do that much, then why the hell was he even here?
The knowledge resolved her to patience, and Shepard quietly left the main battery. She could hear Garrus' soft, relieved sigh just before the doors closed behind her, locking him into his safe isolation again. It wasn't her job to babysit the emotional integrity of her crew, or her friends, and if Garrus wanted to hide away in the main battery, that was his choice and she'd let it be. He'd kept his word and told her how the Omega mess had came about. She would have to show him equal respect and trust that he could handle this on his own, or come to her if he needed help.
Commander Shepard squared her shoulders and moved decisively down the corridor to the galley. Next on her list of team building chats: Jacob Taylor.
The diffused back lighting of the fish tank cast an azure radiance across much of Shepard's quarters, and the low-pitched hum was almost soothing. But there was still something kind of disturbing about looking up to see empty water.
Next place we stop, I'm getting some damned fish, she promised herself and almost laughed at the thought. Fish? What next, a freaking hamster? She peered through the glass display cabinet that separated this small 'office' from the main lower floor of her quarters, and snorted softly at the model ships hanging there. She hadn't collected model ships since she was a kid on Mindoir. These quarters were so damned luxurious compared to anything she'd experience on an Alliance vessel, sometimes it was hard to feel comfortable in them. Other times, when she found them kind of cozy, she started to wonder if she was really that soft.
"Analysis complete, Commander," EDI's voice interrupted her thoughts and Shepard leaned back in her chair, swivelling back to the monitor of her private terminal. EDI brought up the review of neighbouring systems and documented mineral surveys and claims. Even as a Spectre, she wouldn't have been able to claim jump an established mine, but Shepard could get an idea of the probable options in the local area. The difficulty lay in the scarcity of accurate records in the Terminus Systems. They weren't exactly poster children for law and order, which went hand in hand with accurate record keeping. Claims were usually established at gun point, and held the same way. Claim jumpers who didn't ensure their own security were 'punished' by being overrun by either the ousted original owners on a vengeance trip, or potential new owners with a driving urge to engage in the mining industry.
Reviewing EDI's analysis, Shepard sighed and rubbed her eyes. She'd been at this for hours, using the time as the Normandy's headed for Korlus to try to work out the best place to start looking for the resources necessary to build the cannon Garrus had suggested. Her friendly chat with Jacob had also raised the possibility of upgrading the hull with heavy armor, and Shepard's estimation of their chances of success had risen accordingly. It was becoming more important than ever that they take some time to stop and collect the raw materials necessary to make the upgrades.
Shepard felt as though there was a time bomb ticking away slowly in the back of her mind. Seconds slid out of her grasp, and each one brought them closer and closer to the inevitable face off with the Collectors. They had to be prepared. She couldn't lose another Normandy. The drive to prepare for that conflict was a constant force within us, guiding her every action and thought. It was growing into an obsession, but Shepard could live with that.
It seemed as though they had a little time yet... but she couldn't just sit back and take her sweet time about getting this sorted. Each day that passed brought a greater risk of another attack on a human colony, and when it happened, Shepard knew she would be partly responsible. If she couldn't get her ass into gear and get moving, more colonies would be taken.
They needed time, and they didn't have any.
With a low growl, Shepard pushed away from the terminal. "EDI, feed this data through to Joker. Once we've got Okeer, tell him to point us in the direction of the nearest flagged planet."
"Yes, Commander," the AI responded sedately, and Shepard closed the file on her terminal. She rubbed her eyes tiredly.
A soft double-beep was an unexpected interruption. Shepard blinked in confusion, trying to identify the sound. When it came again, she belatedly realized it was coming from her door panel. No wonder she hadn't recognised it; nobody had ever come to her quarters before.
Curious, the Commander rose from her chair and stepped towards her door, pressing her hand lightly to the control. The door opened on a blue-armored turian who'd apparently given up on the door being answered and had turned back towards the elevator.
Shepard cleared her throat loudly, and Garrus spun around to face her.
"Oh! Commander, you are here... I'm sorry, I thought you were out..." the turian said, and Shepard had to smile at his uncharacteristically sheepish demeanor. "I would have waited until I saw you next, but you said you preferred to meet in the main battery or your office and –"
The smile blossomed into a smirk and Shepard lifted a hand up to stop his near-babble. "It's ok, Garrus. You're not interrupting. Come on in."
She backed away from the door and the big turian approached unsurely. His eyes were darting about in the same way he surveyed a battlefield; it was rather amusing to observe his cautiousness. It made Shepard wonder if turians had a strong sense of privacy, or maybe territorial instincts. She'd never seen him look so uncertain as he stepped inside her quarters.
"I was just finishing up a review of potential mining sites to get us started on that cannon of yours," the Commander explained, giving an inviting gesture to encourage him further into her room. She stepped lightly down the two steps to the lower level, where her sofa would provide the best option for strategy planning. She assumed that was why he was here, after all. "Take a seat, Garrus."
Garrus paused at the bottom of the steps, seemingly flummoxed by the presence of an empty tank of water. She grinned a little, watching him shrug it off – presumably as some human thing– and switch his gaze over the rest of the small room. He may have realized in advance that her office was also her bedroom, or perhaps he didn't care, because he just glanced over the personal area of her room and dropped his attention fully onto her. The turian still seemed hesitant to be here, but carefully lowered his armoured bulk into the soft leather sofa.
She didn't bother wondering why he wore his armor everywhere. Trying to imagine Garrus without that armor was likely to cause her brain to implode over such an impossibility.
"So, what have you got?" Shepard prompted when he sat down, and she noticed he was holding a datafile.
"I told you I was going to look into the situation on Korlus," Garrus reminded her, and she nodded. He passed the datafile over to her. "This is the cargo manifest of a freighter that dropped supplies there about two months ago. Everyone I spoke to said the only thing Blue Suns are doing on Korlus is testing advanced munitions on downed ship fossils. But nothing on that manifest matches that kind of work."
Shepard ran her eyes over it eagerly, and felt her eyebrows crawl upwards in surprise. "Well, that's for damned sure. Cloning tanks, laboratory equipment... This has to be for Okeer, but what the hell is he doing down there?"
Garrus cleared his throat carefully. "Take a close look at the dimensions on those tanks, Shepard."
She did so, and drew in a sharp hissing breath. Her concerned gaze darted up to his, and Garrus nodded confirmation.
"Too big for most species, but just right for a krogan, yeah," Garrus stated grimly. "Korlus has a lot of krogan outposts, so if they're running experiments for a genophage cure, they'd have plenty of test subjects – willing or not. None of the other merc groups on Korlus have any clue what the Blue Suns are doing... but whatever the involvement between Okeer and Blue Suns, there's some pretty high tech involved. Expensive tech," he added significantly.
"So who's funding the experiments?" Shepard wondered aloud, tapping her fingernail against the edge of the datafile she held. Garrus gave a helpless shrug, but she hadn't expected anything else. Merc gangs were sloppy in some areas, but they usually managed to keep their financial trails pretty closely guarded to protect their investors. "I'll show this to Mordin and see if he there's anything he can make of the equipment. Cloning krogans can't possibly cure the genophage, there's got to be more to this."
Garrus leaned back in his seat, shifting his long, three-toed feet out awkwardly. "I think you should bring Mordin on the mission too," he suggested diffidently.
Shepard figured he was still uncertain as to his role here. "I agree, nobody else on the crew would have the technological know-how to recognise something out of the ordinary here," she replied and saw him relax subtly. It would take time for him to grow comfortable. He had played vigilante leader, but that was still a vastly different role to what she was asking of him here. "Thanks for digging this up, Garrus."
To her surprise, he grimaced, his mandibles shifting tightly against his jaw. "I'm sorry I couldn't find anything more informative than that. I may have been overly critical of Cerberus' failure to get any good intel on this situation. But I did find out a little bit more on Okeer, before he vanished off the galactic radar."
Intrigued, Shepard gestured for him to share. Garrus' flanging voice filled her room, softly overlaying the background hum of the empty fish tank. "As you know, he earned his reputation as a warlord in the Krogan Rebellions. He was allied with Shiagur, one of their female warlords, and was allegedly on Canrum when the turian military defeated her. Many of their males undertook missions of vengeance against the turians who destroyed Shiagur, but there's no indication that Okeer was one of them. It seems he turned his attention to destroying the genophage, and restoring krogan fertility.
Since the end of the Krogan Rebellions, he's been involved in one attempt after another to do just that. He's allied with scientific research groups from all over the galaxy, apparently so that he could learn enough medical science to save his people from the genophage. I guess with a few hundred years to work at it, even a krogan can become a scientist," he reflected sardonically. Garrus offered her another datafile. "In case you're interested, that's all the detail I dug up on Okeer. None of it tells me if he's on Korlus willingly or not, but chances are he is. If Blue Suns could provide him with this kind of expensive tech to conduct his research... there's nothing he wouldn't do. He's obsessed, Shepard."
"Great," she muttered. "And we want him to join a team with a turian and a salarian. What do you think our chances are?"
Garrus tilted his head thoughtfully. "One in a thousand?" he offered, but his mandibles were angling in that way she'd learned meant humor.
Shepard found herself laughing softly at that, and if it sounded just a bit bitter, well, too bad. "Yeah, that sounds about right. I can't offer him any way to help the krogan..." She paused uncomfortably. "And I wouldn't even if I could. Restoration of the krogan birth rates would unsettle the galaxy right at the time we need to focus it on the Reaper threat. But the Illusive Man says Okeer's had contact with the Collectors... if that's the case, he may understand the threat they pose to everyone. Krogans included."
"Perhaps," Garrus said in his low drawl. "We'll have to play it by ear. See what turns up."
Shepard sighed, laying the datafiles on the low coffee table. "I agree. I'd rather not lock us into a specific plan of attack with so little information. I'm confident Mordin can improvise once we're on planet."
Garrus nodded, catching her eyes deliberately. He opened his mouth to speak, then hesitated for a long moment. "...Shepard...," he began eventually. "I wanted to say... Thank you for listening to me earlier. About Sidonis. And for not ... pushing."
He was a big bundle of awkward turian, and it was kind of adorable in a rather pathetic way. Shepard couldn't help but smile as he struggled to convey a sentiment he was entirely uncomfortable even admitting existed. "Anytime, Garrus. That's what friends do."
He still looked puzzled and unsure, but oddly determined. "Friends... Yes. I'm not going to lie to you, Shepard. I will find Sidonis, and I will kill him for what he did to my team. But this mission... what we're doing here, and what you've asked of me... that will always come first. I want you to know that I have my priorities clear on this."
She shouldn't be so surprised that he'd guessed her concerns. But she was, and whether that spoke poorly of herself or of Garrus, she couldn't quite say. Shepard looked away briefly, the azure glow of the fish tank inevitably drawing her eye. "Thank you, Garrus. When you find Sidonis, when the time comes... I'll be there if you need me to watch your back."
Shepard was almost holding her breath, watching him out of the corner of her eye. Because while the offer she was making was genuine, it was also a little underhanded. She would always have his back if he needed it, that was an unquestionable fact of the universe. But her offer was made more in the hope that if he accepted, she might be able to persuade him away from seeking vengeance so brutally. It would change him irrevocably, if he did what he intended, and Shepard wasn't ready to see that happen. If she were there when he went after Sidonis, she'd be able to... do something, talk him out of it maybe, or if worse came to worst, take Sidonis out herself. Garrus would never forgive her, but at least he wouldn't be the one to have done it.
The light of the fish tank was the exact shade of his visor. It danced and played across the frame of the visor, catching the highlights of the blue clan markings on his face. Garrus seemed to be studying her as he considered her words. Weighing his options, making his choice. Under such a direct gaze, she wanted to fidget, but forced herself to maintain as calm an appearance as she could. After a long moment, the turian nodded.
"I appreciate that, Shepard. I can't think of anyone else I'd rather take with me."
Under his warm gaze, Shepard felt a tiny trickle of guilt. Was it wrong to insinuate herself into his personal business under the guise of helping him, when really she was trying to... well, help him, but not in the way he'd want? The moral aspects of the issue were too much and Shepard pushed the issue aside. What would be, would be. She might piss him off mightily before this was all over, but she had to follow her instincts on this one.
"I'd better go now. We'll be arriving at Korlus in a few hours and I want to be ready," Garrus announced, smoothly rising from the seat. Shepard followed suit, pausing at the base of the stairs by the fish tank, as he ascended them and moved towards the door.
"Hey Garrus?" He turned in the doorway and looked back at her curiously. "Thanks again for the intel."
He threw her that smug turian smile. "That's what you're paying me for, Shepard," he reminded her and stepped through the door. It closed behind him on a smiling Shepard, who then turned back to her private terminal.
She had no idea what they'd find down there, but an obsessed krogan 'doctor' building an army of cloned krogans on the recycling centre of the galaxy was seeming the most likely possibility at this point. And Shepard had absolutely no clue how she'd manage to talk him into joining her team.