A/N - I'm not dead, I swear! But I am in my last semester of my degree and school stole my life... In apology for the huuuuuge lag in updates, I'm giving you the chapter you've all been waiting for. :)
Again, many thanks to Stormflite for being my beta on this!
Fucking Illusive Man. I'll kill him, I swear to god. If I ever meet that son of a bitch in the flesh, I'm gonna put a bullet between his eyes. Fuck!
They were running for their lives, with husks and Collectors and god knew what else hot on their heels. The Collector ship had been a trap, full to bursting with all manner of nightmares and abominations. The sickeningly flesh-like walls of the alien corridor blurred past Shepard as she led her team back to the shuttle at a dead run. There was no hope of killing everything on this ship. Their only option was escape; to run as far and fast as they could and hope like hell they were lucky enough to make it.
"Shepard, trouble up ahead!"
She could hear the hitch in Garrus' voice that showed he was tiring. Shepard clenched her hand tighter around her pistol and tried not to swear.
"Oh god, what now?" Miranda gasped, even her superior genetics pushed to the limit.
Garrus didn't need to answer. The iridescent blue of husk cybernetics caught the low lighting as dozens of the repurposed human corpses lurched down the corridor towards them. Shepard could see the Kodiak at the far end of the corridor, past the shifting bodies of approaching husks. She risked a quick sidelong glance at her squad and reached a swift decision.
"Run like hell," she ordered desperately. They were low on thermal clips and all of them were pushed past endurance. Miranda was visibly favoring her left leg and Garrus' armor was badly scorched in some worrying spots. They didn't have the stamina or the clips to take out all those husks.
They just had to make it to the shuttle. Fast, because she could hear the thrum of the Collector ship around them as it powered back up.
The three of them acted like a well-oiled machine now. Garrus took the long range, firing deep into the pack of bodies with his rifle. Miranda broke them up and knocked them off their feet with her biotics. Shepard followed close on their heels and took the precision, close-quarter kills with her pistol, firing off headshots whenever a husk remained in their path. The bastards were awkward and lumbering but damn quick when they wanted to be, and they had a grip like nothing else. They were lucky or fast enough to make it through the pack of husks without any of them getting grabbed. Shepard was half-turned now as she raced for the shuttle, firing behind them into the darkness. The glowing blue eyes of the husks gave her something solid to aim at.
Miranda hit the shuttle first, slamming a fist down on the exterior door controls and swearing at it when it opened sluggishly. Shepard and Garrus reached her a heartbeat later, both of them spinning to put their backs to the shuttle, weapons aimed at the fast-closing horde. Behind her, Shepard heard Miranda climb into the shuttle, and knew she'd be heading straight for the pilot's seat.
Garrus' rifle was a series of staccato bursts between the steady beat of her own pistol firing, but the husks were getting through. They scrambled backwards into the shuttle even as Miranda guided it up off the ground, the door still gaping wide open.
"Miranda, get us the hell out of here!" Shepard yelled over her shoulder, and felt the answering rumble of the engines under her feet as Miranda obeyed.
Shepard let herself relax too soon; she heard a sudden shout of alarm from Garrus. Spinning back, she saw a husk had taken a leap before the shuttle rose out of range, and had latched onto the back of the turian's armor. The extra weight was dragging Garrus backwards through the half-closed doors of the shuttle. In alarm, Shepard saw him struggle to free his rifle, clinging tightly to the door frame as the Kodiak rose up higher.
Shepard moved immediately, wrapping an arm around his torso to hold him steady and bracing herself against the door of the shuttle. Looking down over his shoulder, she saw the husk begin climbing up his body, determined to bring the turian down with it when it fell, or maybe still trying to get into the shuttle. Her eyes narrowed.
Don't you fucking dare.
Sharp fury lanced through the Commander as she sighted her pistol down on the husk and fired. Its head exploded on impact, the body falling away from Garrus limply as Shepard roughly pulled him back into the shuttle. He fell forwards, rolling messily with her as the Kodiak tilted in its ascent. When the shuttle doors finally closed, Shepard was half-crushed beneath the weight of her sniper.
He was heavy and armored and pointy as hell, but she knew Garrus was alive because she could feel him panting for breath; the warm heat of his exhalations hit her face. For just an instant, she let herself recognise how lucky she was that he had survived. Shepard let her eyes fall shut for one single, silent moment of intense personal gratitude to the universe for that fact.
Then she snapped her eyes open again and got on with the job.
"Vakarian. Get your spiky ass back on your feet before you poke a hole in me," she muttered somewhere close by his ear. Garrus gave a choked-off laugh and complied, levering himself up and off her.
"Sorry Commander," he muttered, reaching out a hand to pull her to her feet. "Are you hurt?"
She was breathing. That was good enough given the circumstances. "I'll live – but that won't matter a damn if we don't get the Normandy out of here in the next minute." Shepard turned anxious eyes towards the cockpit. "Miranda – hurry!"
The Kodiak ripped across the void, sliding down sharp inclines and careening along narrow margins as Miranda pointed its nose straight for the Normandy's shuttle bay. Shepard's heart was pounding in her throat as she caught sight of the colossal Collector vessel dwarfing her sleek Normandy. It was still a dark, silent shadow pressed against the stars but even as she watched, lights started to flicker on across its ancient, malevolent bulk.
Adrenaline and terror were fighting for control over her as the Kodiak slammed wildly into the shuttle bay. Shepard took the terror and shoved it down, forging the adrenaline into a weapon. She let it take away her exhaustion and fuel the frantic race to the cockpit and Joker. Her pilot was already wrestling the Normandy out of the Collector ship's wake when she made it up there. A hasty glance over her shoulder as she reached Joker showed Garrus wasn't far behind.
Stomach twisting anxiously, Shepard clutched at the back of Joker's seat and watched the Collector ship's main weapon grow brighter and brighter. It lanced across the darkness, cutting through the void directly in front of them and Joker yanked back hard on the controls. The Normandy bucked and writhed under his touch, and Shepard felt the ghost-touch of could-have-been fire and death. It was just like before. Just like before.
Sudden movement in her peripheral vision shattered the horrific, growing sense of déjà vu. Garrus edged up beside her, a presence that hadn't been there last time. He looked as grim as she'd ever seen him, meeting her eyes with worry burning bright in them. The sight of him doused her growing fear, reminding her that this didn't have to end the same way as her last encounter with a Collector ship.
Those bastards aren't taking another Normandy. Not today.
She didn't know if she was promising Garrus, or herself, or the Collectors. Shepard opened her mouth to tell him to fire up the Thanix, when the Normandy suddenly slipped into FTL, the stars turning to bright white streaks. Gasping in surprise, she stared numbly at the forward screens.
"Not again, Shepard. They're not getting her again."
It was Joker's voice, falling into the sudden silence. Frail as a paperclip, fierce as a krogan. The Commander looked down at her angry, terrified pilot, and patted his shoulder gently.
"You're damn right they're not. Good work, Joker. You just saved all our asses."
Garrus stepped closer, mandibles twitching uneasily. "Just like old times."
"Not quite. I'd say it's time to call up the Illusive Man and find out what the fuck he was thinking, sending us in there," Shepard suggested, hearing the brittle chill in her voice and not particularly giving a damn. She was exhausted. Every single cell in her body was screaming for rest. Her armor was scorched and covered with grime and gore, and underneath it, she was sore and stiff and hurting. But her rage was white-hot and burning from the inside.
Garrus dropped his hand heavily onto her shoulder. Shepard found herself spun around, staring up at the turian in his battered armor in blank surprise.
"Shepard." Vakarian slid his hand down to curl around her left arm. "You need to see Chakwas."
She exhaled sharply. "Garrus, I'm fine. What I need to do right now is get some answers out of that son of a bitch."
"You're angry, I get that. I am too. And you're right, we deserve answers," Garrus agreed softly. There was an intensity in his eyes that she had trouble looking away from. "But do you really think talking to him right now is a good idea? He'll still be there in an hour. You've got time to go get cleaned up, and check in with the Doc."
As much as she wanted nothing more than to haul off and rip the bastard a new one, Shepard knew that when her temper was up, she could be reckless and unpredictable. But the situation hadn't changed. They still needed the Illusive Man's help.
Garrus was making too much damn sense. Damn it, she hated when he did that.
She shook her head wearily and let it go for now. Her gaze flicked over him pointedly. "Fine. But take your own advice, buddy," she suggested and he nodded once, releasing her arm.
"Damn, I'm glad you're back with us, Garrus. You're the only one she lets tell her what to do," Joker muttered as she left the cockpit.
Shepard figured the smart choice right now was to ignore that and follow Garrus' advice.
And then go yell at the Illusive Man.
"That went well," Tali remarked ironically.
The debriefing with her crew had been more turbulent than Shepard had expected, once the Illusive Man dropped his twin bombshells on them: the destination of the Omega 4 Relay and the location of a derelict Reaper. Shepard watched Jacob and Miranda storm out of the briefing room, each heading in different directions. In the absence of their cutting arguments, the room was both quieter and bigger; as if the two stubborn personalities had taken up much more room than their bodies could occupy.
Vakarian coughed into the silence. "They did just work out their boss led them into a trap," the turian pointed out. "That sort of thing tends to put people in a bad mood."
The Commander grimaced. "Tell me about it," she agreed and glanced up. Both of her dextro crew were watching her, Tali's helmet tilted curiously and Garrus with an expectant expression. With a sigh, she shook her head. "I don't have any answers either. The Illusive Man led us into a trap and that's something I can't forgive or work around. He crossed a line. I'm not sure I'm prepared to risk this ship and our crew on another derelict ship mission from that bastard."
The quarian sighed heavily behind her face plate. "I hate to say it, but that bosh'tet is creative. I don't think he'd try the same story twice."
That's about the only argument I have in favor of this, Shepard thought unhappily. She slanted her gaze sidelong towards Vakarian, who had been uncharacteristically silent earlier. "You didn't weigh in yet, big guy. What's your take on it? You think we should head for the derelict Reaper straight up, or do you want to scope it out first?"
The turian leaned back on one hip, crossing his arms. His expression had fallen into thoughtful, almost serious lines and she waited with patient curiosity. "To tell the truth, I'm not sure we have much choice. Assuming this ship is for real, and there actually is a Reaper IFF on board..."
"A big assumption, all things considered."
Garrus nodded in rueful acknowledgement. "Once we get it, our next stop will be the Omega 4 Relay. Now that we know where that goes... I hate to say it, but I don't think we're ready yet."
This was exactly why she valued having the opinions of intelligent, professional crew at times like this. Shepard crossed her arms and levelled a questioning look at him.
"We have a lot of talented people here, Shepard, but most of our new recruits are still working out how to function in a team." Vakarian shot her a pointed look. "A Justicar who's spent nearly a thousand years working alone, and a professional assassin, for example. Not to mention, Grunt is..."
"Yeah," she finished for him ruefully. "The Doc took a look at him and can't find anything wrong. Medically, I mean. She suggested we take him to Tuchanka to get checked out by his own people."
Tali shifted anxiously. "I think that's probably a good idea, Shepard. Nobody wants a rogue krogan on the Normandy."
"And then there's Massani," Garrus continued. "He's a solid shooter and we could use another one of those. We don't have any idea what's going to be waiting for us, but I don't think there's any doubt this is going to end up in a fire fight."
Shepard gathered herself, and nodded slowly. He had a point, a damn good one. But the memory of the Collector ship, and all those countless tubes - empty, waiting - was imprinted on the back of her eyelids, flashing at her every time she closed her eyes. Shepard turned to face the table, curling her hands to grip at the edge of it and studying the both of them over its width. "Our time frame is pretty tight here. How quickly do you think we can get our people up to speed?"
"Cerberus keeps throwing all those odd jobs at us," Tali pointed out thoughtfully. "Why not take advantage of them?"
Garrus started to chuckle. "Use them as a training ground? Not a bad idea. We can cycle through the new crew, scope out their strengths and work out the best way to use them in the field."
They were sneaky bastards, the pair of them, but using Cerberus assignments as training grounds for her new crew made too much sense. She felt a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as she nodded agreement. "I like it. It will buy us some time to get more intel on this Reaper ship. We can't take too long... Based on EDI's report, we're expecting another colony to be hit fairly soon."
Tali shifted slightly. "Shepard, I think we have more time than we expected."
Both she and Garrus turned sharply towards the quarian, Shepard leaning in over the table. "What do you mean, Tali?"
The quarian began washing her gloved hands, a sure sign of nerves. "We know they're after human bodies for some reason, that's why they've been attacking the colonies," Tali began. Her voice was pitched higher than normal, and her words tumbled out quickly. "But they're after you too, Shepard. That Reaper, Harbinger... the one you faced on Horizon, you said it was on that Collector ship today too. That can't be a coincidence. It's behind all of this. The Collector ship wasn't a trap for the Normandy, it was for you."
It made her blink. The sound of Harbinger calling her name was a recurring nightmare, but Shepard had assumed the Reaper was focussing on her as the leader of the Normandy. She glanced over at Vakarian, expecting to see him looking as sceptical as she felt, but to her alarm, he appeared to be agreeing with Tali.
The Commander shook her head firmly. "That doesn't make any sense. What the hell would a Reaper care about one human?"
"Who can understand why the Reapers do anything?" Vakarian challenged. "I couldn't be sure on Horizon, but their tactics today were clear. They laid a trap and fed the bait to you through Cerberus."
She must have been looking as dubious as she felt, because he moved in closer, leaning over the table towards her.
"Shepard," he murmured, and there was something about the low pitch to his voice, the suddenly strong flanging quality in his voice, that surprised her. Garrus sounded almost affectionate. "You've never been just some human. You're the lynch pin holding this whole thing together. You were the one that kept driving us after Saren and Sovereign. You're the one Cerberus spent billions of credits to bring back from the dead. You're the one who stopped them at Horizon. I can guarantee you... if there's anything the Reapers fear in this whole damn galaxy, it's Commander Shepard."
It damn near blew her away. Not just the idea of it, but the way he was looking at her when he said it. Fierce, proud, terrified. Garrus took her breath away with the certainty of his words, and the too-visible anxiety they caused him.
"I remember having some help in all of that," Shepard answered slowly, glancing between her two crew.
"Shepard," Tali chastised. "Without you, none of this would have happened. There's a reason Cerberus brought you back."
This is ridiculous.
Vakarian smirked over the table at her. "If you won't accept that it's you they're after, you can't deny they're interested in the Normandy."
"I'll give you that," she agreed with a faint smile. "They've tried to lure us into two traps so far." The idea was taking root in her mind, sparking possibilities in the part of her brain that processed tactics. "Fine, then. That's our edge." She could feel the smile widening, turning sharp-edged and feral.
If the enemy gives you an advantage, you take it.
"You want to use the Normandy as bait," Tali guessed sharply.
Even Garrus looked surprised, his mandibles tilting sharply downwards as he watched her in alarm. Shepard met his eyes firmly.
"Our time frame is limited, and we only have one weakness to play them on. You're damn straight I'll use the Normandy as bait. We need to be visible, but unpredictable enough to keep ahead of them. We're going to do this our way from now on. I'm sick of dancing to somebody else's tune."
"I can work out a schedule, something to give us maximum transit time with the most efficient program to work through the highest priority Cerberus assignments," Tali volunteered helpfully.
"I would be more than happy to assist you, Tali'Zorah," EDI piped up.
The quarian jumped, the way she always did when the AI spoke to her directly. For a moment, judging from the tension in her thin shoulders, Shepard thought she might refuse. Then, with a sigh, Tali nodded. "I'd appreciate the... assistance," she replied drily.
Shepard nodded at her encouragingly. "Good. We need to keep the hook baited as long as we can, keep the bastards away from the colonies. Get on it, Tali."
With a quick nod, the quarian headed out, throwing an unreadable glance in the direction of EDI's module by the door. The AI's cerulean image cut off, and Shepard and Vakarian were alone. Or as alone as they got anywhere on the Normandy that was monitored by Cerberus bugs.
She could feel his eyes on her, as he circled the table to move to her side.
"Tough day," Garrus remarked quietly.
The characteristic understatement made her snort. Shepard exhaled on a sigh and tilted her head up to meet his gaze. He still looked concerned, behind the delicate flash of the visor. "Tell me the truth, big guy. Am I crazy?"
She heard him laugh; a low, flanging sound of sardonic amusement.
"Of course you are, Shepard. It's one of my favourite things about you."
It made her chuckle softly. "You know, from day one, everyone's been telling me I must be crazy to be working with Cerberus. At first, it seemed like my only option. But now... I'm a Spectre again. The Alliance reinstated me. I've got Hackett riding my ass about filing reports. But I'm still wearing this damn Cerberus logo."
The Commander tilted her head up slowly, and met his questioning gaze. There was no condemnation there, although she personally hated the self-doubt inherent in her comment. Garrus watched her calmly.
"You sound like you wish you'd stuck with the Alliance," he observed.
Shepard shook her head. "No. Well, maybe. I don't know." It wasn't like her to be this indecisive, but the wrongness of working with Cerberus had come to a head today. She peered up at Vakarian, this man who had impossibly, unpredictably, become her best friend and realized there was nobody else she could ever have admitted this to. "Garrus, do you ever regret leaving C-Sec or the turian military?"
"Not for a minute," Garrus assured her without a moment's hesitation. "When it comes down to it, Shepard, I don't think I'm a very good turian. When a good turian hears a bad order, he follows it. He might complain, but he knows his place. I just don't see the point in staying quiet and polite." He looked down at her pointedly. "Not when the galaxy is at stake."
And there it was. That bitch of a truth that had driven her to this impasse. The Illusive Man was a lying, manipulative bastard, but he was winning the race when it came to potential allies. The Alliance and the Council might have been the good and moral choice for allies, but Shepard wasn't in this to win any kind of ethical brownie points. She was in it to save the fucking galaxy, and even after today, Cerberus was her best chance of getting that done.
Shepard sighed, nodding in acknowledgment. "You're right. And Cerberus can deliver the goods. We just have to play this smarter. I'm not sending my team into another trap."
His visor caught the overhead light as Garrus leaned in towards her, dropping his hand gently onto her shoulder. "I'll see if I have any contacts out in the Hawking Eta sector who can get us some more intel on this derelict ship. Don't worry," he assured her before she could interject. "I won't put anyone else at risk. I know what I'm doing."
The three-fingered turian hand squeezed her shoulder lightly, and she watched his mandibles shift into what Shepard now recognised as his smile. Garrus wasn't usually a touchy-feely kind of guy, so Shepard let herself enjoy the moment. She could have lost him today, along with everything else. There was time to take a moment and appreciate how lucky she was.
With a smile, Shepard nodded. "Of course you do. I'll try to pin down Hackett, see if the Alliance has heard anything. We can compare notes once we get anything back. Deal?"
"Deal," Garrus drawled back.
He turned to leave and her gaze followed out of habit. She told herself sternly that it was only to confirm that he was moving smoothly and without visible sign of injuries, to reassure herself that he had been to see Dr Chakwas.
She absolutely wasn't checking out his ass.
Definitely not.
Shepard was reviewing the files Hackett had guardedly agreed to share with her, when she was interrupted by a buzz at her cabin door. Glancing up in surprise, the Commander locked down the Alliance intel and stood to see who was at her hatch.
Miranda Lawson was the last person she expected to walk through that door. Shepard's eyebrows lifted in surprise as she stepped back to silently invite the woman inside.
"Sorry to interrupt, Commander," Miranda greeted tersely, flicking her gaze momentarily across the cabin before snapping back onto Shepard.
"Don't worry about it. How's the leg?" Shepard asked, noting the lack of a limp as Miranda paced restlessly in front of the fish tank.
Miranda gave a casual shrug. "Doctor Chakwas realigned the fibula, it's fine now."
Leaning a hip against the corner of her desk, Shepard crossed her arms and studied the other woman expectantly. "You're not here for small talk. What's up, Miranda?"
Miranda knew damn well that this cabin wasn't monitored by Cerberus bugs. If she'd come up here to see Shepard, it wasn't because she wanted to keep this conversation private from the crew. It was because she wanted to keep it private from Cerberus. That was unusual, and unexpected enough, to have Shepard's immediate attention.
Lawson took a deep breath. "What happened today, on the Collector ship... Shepard, I want it to be clear between us. I had no idea that vessel wasn't as abandoned as Cerberus intel reported it to be. I'm your primary link to Cerberus and it was my responsibility to verify the information."
Whatever she'd expected, it wasn't that. Commander Shepard lifted a hand to interrupt. "I never doubted that, Miranda. You're too much of a survivor to have gone on the mission if you knew of the danger in advance."
Miranda hesitated, a rueful smile tugging briefly at her lips. "I can't argue that logic. But it's more than just today." The younger woman was visibly nervous, pacing edgily along the length of the fish tank. "I've always agreed with Cerberus goals. Humanity came late to the galactic community and we need to establish a position of strength within it or we'll end up as powerless as the krogan, without a voice or any control over our destiny. But the Collectors and the Reapers threaten our very survival. This mission is more important than establishing a dominant position for humanity. It's why I agreed to head up the Lazarus Project, and why I'm here now."
"The Illusive Man has made it clear he's prepared to risk this crew, this ship and our mission in order to achieve his own objectives," the Commander pointed out.
Miranda nodded easily. "But his goal is still the same: to eradicate the threat of the Collectors and ultimately the Reapers."
"Miranda, this stopped being about the future of humanity the minute our first colony was attacked. We're both here to ensure humanity's survival. What happens after that is out of my hands, and I'm happy to let things stand that way," Shepard reminded her.
She'd expected Miranda to hesitate, to argue. Miranda argued with everything, out of habit. So Shepard was surprised when the other woman looked her right in the eye, and all that fierce intelligence and irrevocable determination was narrowed in to focus on the Commander.
"I want humanity to survive, Shepard, and I don't trust anyone but you to make that happen. I am concerned that the Illusive Man's judgement has become... clouded," the Cerberus woman admitted. "Our focus needs to be on stopping the Collectors. That's what I came here to tell you. I'm with you. Whatever you need."
Watching her steadily, Shepard realized that today's events had rattled Miranda more than she'd realised. This wasn't an outright abandonment of Cerberus, but it was clear that Lawson had decided to take her own path; a path that only marginally followed Cerberus goals. The Commander nodded slowly.
"What I need is better intel. We walked into that ship today because the Illusive Man led us there like blind cattle," Shepard told her calmly. "You were his eyes, Miranda. It's time to turn them back on him. I need to know how Cerberus learned about this derelict Reaper before I make a move on it."
She'd surprised the other woman, at least a little. Shepard watched Miranda think for a moment, her eyes narrowing in that intense way she had when focussing on a puzzle or difficult task. "Cerberus isn't organised like your Alliance, Commander. We operate in cells, and each unit typically has no idea what anyone else is doing, and can't identify any operatives outside their own cell. The only person who has eyes on everything is the Illusive Man."
Leaning forward, Shepard met her gaze intently. "You're a fast learner, Miranda, and I don't think you trust Cerberus as much as you made out. You knew about the Gernsback. You have your fingers in more pies than you let on."
After a moment's hesitation, Lawson nodded in acknowledgment. "I've been involved in more Cerberus projects than Lazarus, and I like to keep track of my former cell mates. I can start there, and expand. But Shepard... he's better than me. I don't know if I can keep this hidden from him."
Commander Shepard smirked. "He's not a god, Miranda, no matter how much he likes to pretend he is. He's a man and therefore fallible."
"Talk like that is practically heresy in Cerberus," Lawson remarked, her tone threaded with irony. She met Shepard's eyes momentarily and nodded in agreement.
"I'm not Cerberus, Miranda. I have confidence in you. Anything you can find can only help."
Miranda made her way towards the door, and Shepard was satisfied to see the tension that had been visible before was gone. Operative Lawson had cleared her conscience, it seemed.
At the door, however, Miranda hesitated. "Shepard. There's something else."
When the woman hesitated, seemingly unable to meet the Commander's eyes, Shepard became curious. "Yes?"
"As you know, Cerberus expected that I would be your executive officer on the Normandy. When you made it clear Officer Vakarian was your second, I had my doubts." Miranda looked almost apologetic. "He's a superior combatant, but I didn't believe that he had any leadership potential. Over the last few weeks, I've seen that I was wrong on that score. I want you to know, Commander... I believe Garrus was the right choice for that role. I wouldn't have been able to integrate with the crew as well as he has."
Shepard blinked in surprise. "I've known him longer than you, so I knew that he'd pull it together. Garrus has exceptional potential in many areas."
"I won't argue that. Not anymore," Miranda reassured her. With a hinted smile, Lawson dipped her head in farewell. "Good night, Commander."
After another few hours of reviewing reports from the Hawking Eta system, Shepard was still too wound up for sleep. Not that it was unusual for her to suffer insomnia after a bad mission. She'd been a soldier long enough to know that the easiest way to handle it was to just drive on until her body demanded sleep.
The Normandy was eerily quiet as she ghosted through it, encountering not a single soul. Alliance ships tended to designate the 'night shift' according to the manning of the mess hall, and the Normandy was no exception. Gardner – janitor, cook, and handyman – single-handedly dictated the circadian rhythms of the entire ship. When he closed up shop and flicked off the lights, the Normandy and her crew drifted gently into their own personal night.
As Shepard padded silently across the crew deck, she spotted a sharp edge of light coming from the main battery. Garrus often crashed on a turian-style cot in the back of it, because the human beds in the crew cabins weren't ideal in accommodating his build. She wondered if he'd fallen asleep with the lights on, and diverted in that direction.
It was a surprise when she reached the door and found him standing up at the Thanix cannon control panel.
"Tell me, Vakarian. Is fine-tuning the firing algorithms your version of counting sheep?" Shepard drawled quietly, feeling her mouth quirk into a grin when he spun in surprise.
"Calibrating, Shepard," Garrus corrected her firmly, but with a smile. "It's called calibrating, and I have no idea what a sheep is. Are they valuable?"
It made her laugh, and she stepped further into the main battery, letting the door close quietly behind her. "Never mind, big guy. I meant, can't you sleep either?"
She was close enough now to see the signs of weariness in him and get her own answer. She caught the low slant of his mandibles, and the roll of his shoulders as he straightened; the gesture meant he was tense or in pain. She'd seen him do it frequently in combat, releasing tension in his shoulders between fire fights. He looked tired, as tired as she felt, and she could read the signs of exhaustion on his face as easily as she could on a fellow human. Funny, she couldn't really remember when he'd stopped looking 'alien' and started looking... familiar.
The turian gave a shrug, turning away from the terminal to grant her his full attention. "Not really. Still a little worked up from the fight, I suppose. Too much to think about."
Shepard took a seat on the crate that he kept against the far wall, the one she knew held his weapons. "I had a visit from Miranda before. Looks like the Illusive Man pushed even her too far this time. She's agreed to use Cerberus sources to verify this derelict Reaper story."
That seemed to ease some of the tension in him at least; Shepard was pleased to see him exhale in relief, his shoulders easing back into a more comfortable position. "Good to hear. We're going to need her backing us completely on this one. I'm not surprised she came over, Shepard," Garrus told her, watching her with an expression that she thought might have been pride. "I've never met anyone who can inspire loyalty like you can."
Thinking back on everything she'd learned about his team on Omega, Shepard had some private doubts about that. But even after facing down Sidonis, Garrus remained touchy on the topic of Omega. One day, she'd make him realize what an exceptional thing he'd achieved on that godforsaken hole.
"Sooner or later we're going to have to jump blind through that Omega-4 Relay, and we're going to need everyone fully committed to this mission if we want to survive it," Shepard said honestly. "If any of us had hesitated, even for a moment, we wouldn't have made it off the Collector ship today."
Vakarian nodded slowly in agreement. "Miranda is good in a fire fight, I'll give her that. I never thought I'd trust a Cerberus agent to watch my back – or yours."
Something about the way he said it made Shepard pause, her throat tightening a little. "We've pulled together a pretty crazy little crew for this mission, haven't we big guy?"
"A galaxy-class thief, a thousand year old Justicar, a half-crazed biotic, a tank-bred krogan, a dying assassin, a salarian that scares the hell out of me, two Cerberus agents, a quarian and us?" The turian's mandibles quirked in amusement. "I'm surprised the Collectors haven't already turned tail and run."
Leaning back on one palm, Shepard grinned. "I never thought I'd end up doing anything like this, you know. Leading a group of aliens and criminals through a relay to the galactic core to take out the damn Protheans. Hell, not even N7 training covers this. I don't have a clue how to prepare this crew for what we're going to face."
"You did pretty well last time around," Garrus reassured her with a low chuckle. "Of course, I don't think we had time to question what the hell we were doing once we hit Ilos. We were through that relay and onto the Citadel before we had time to think about it."
That was true. Shepard remembered the frantic moments once they'd realized that the entire Citadel was nothing more than a trap. She remembered looking from Tali to Garrus and seeing their fierce determination staring back at her. None of them had thought twice about going through.
The Commander tilted her head curiously towards him. "Tell me, Vakarian. How do turian crews get ready for high-risk missions?"
"With violence, usually," Garrus answered easily, smirking at her surprised expression. "Turian ships have more operational discipline than your Alliance, but fewer personal restrictions. Our commanders run us tight, and they know we need to blow off steam. Turian ships have training rooms for exercise, combat sims, even full-contact sparring. Whatever lets people work off stress."
Personally, Shepard figured she'd probably fit right in on a turian ship, if that was true. But the Commander part of her brain never took a break, and it was hardcoded by Alliance protocols and military practices. "You mean turian ships have crewmen fighting each other before a mission?" she clarified dubiously.
"It's supervised, of course. Nobody's going to risk an injury that interferes with the mission. And it's a good way to settle grudges amicably." Garrus paused, leaning back on one hip and grinning in a way she could only describe as nostalgic. It caught her interest immediately, making her sit up and lean forward. "I remember right before one mission, we were going to hit a batarian pirate squad. Very risky. This recon scout and I had been at each other's throats... nerves, mostly. She suggested we settle it in the right."
He was eyeing her sideways, something almost wicked in his expression. Shepard felt herself smirking back. "I assume you took her down gently?"
"Actually, she and I were the top-ranked hand to hand specialists on the ship. I had reach, but she had flexibility. It was... brutal. After nine rounds, the judge called it a draw. There were a lot of unhappy bettors in the training room." Garrus paused, managing to look both uncomfortable and oddly smug at the same time. "We, ah, ended up holding a tiebreaker in her quarters. I had reach, but she had flexibility. More than one way to work off stress, I guess."
He sounded too casual, and Shepard realized that despite all the teasing and banter they threw back and forth at one another, this was somehow more real.
Did he just tell me a sex story?
To put it bluntly, she was fascinated. Shepard may have made the decision to approach him and hope for the best, but she'd sure as hell had zero clue on how to go about doing it. Turian sexual behaviour wasn't exactly covered in Alliance training.
Is that how turians do this?
Shepard knew all the rules and social conventions when it came to dating humans. With a turian, she was flying blind. Did turians prefer casual sex or relationships? Was there a taboo against sleeping with your commander? She was pretty sure there was one about sleeping with a human. She figured she already had enough marks against her in this idea, and the only thing she had going for her was the strength of their friendship. Shepard was under no illusions that Garrus secretly lusted after short, fringeless, unplated, five-fingered aliens.
"You think I should have tried to sleep with Miranda right at the start? Maybe that would have gotten her on side earlier," the Commander drawled, her tone deliberately as wicked as she could make it. She got a perverse kick out of throwing Garrus for a loop, watching him take a second to process it, and then choke back the sharp laughter.
"Maybe you should stick with Alliance protocols for the humans on your ship."
"And turian protocols for the turians?" Shepard threw back immediately, before she even realized what she was saying. She found herself on her feet and wasn't really sure what she intended her next move to be.
God, she was insane for even thinking about this, but Shepard had sort of built her career out of doing crazy things so maybe it wasn't that unexpected. She knew what she wanted, and now she had an idea how to go about getting it in a way that might - just possibly - pass as acceptable to a turian.
So grow a quad and do it already, she snapped at herself.
Garrus tilted his head at her in that familiar, bird-like way and the slightly confused, expectant expression was just so damn him that she knew the moment was here. She was going to do it. She was going to gamble all of her chips and cross the line.
"You said you were still worked up from the fight today. It sounds like you're carrying some tension," Shepard explained as calmly as she could, with her heart beating in her throat.
And hell, he could see it. He was looking her over with that abstracted focus he always wore when trying to interpret unexpected feedback on his visor. It would be showing him the increased heart rate, elevated temperature - she could feel the heat in her cheeks. He had the data. Would he understand what it meant?
Judging from the expectant, and still slightly confused expression on his face, apparently not. Shepard wanted to laugh at the unexpected sweetness of his naïveté but she was still a bundle of nerves. She could back out. She could –
"Maybe I could help you get rid of it," she heard herself say as she approached him deliberately.
Oh hell. Or I can just leap right in.
She wasn't any good at this. Shepard had never been any good at this. It had been so much easier when Kaidan came onto her. She hadn't needed to do anything, risk anything.
Garrus was staring at her in blunt confusion.
"I... ah... didn't think you'd feel like sparring, Commander," he said hesitantly.
Commander.
Her heart started to sink because if this were any other man, the use of her rank would have been a polite rejection. But, Shepard reminded herself quickly, this was Garrus. He was too honest, his rejection would be awkward and babbling, but unmistakeable. And he was still peering at her uncertainly.
So she had to do this. Go all the way. Risk everything. Shepard hovered there for a moment, balancing on the escape route he'd given her, and asked herself, is it worth it?
The answer came back, quick and certain.
Hell, yes.
Shepard took a deep breath and took another step closer to him. "What if we skipped right to the tie-breaker?" she suggested, as he turned to follow her progress. To hide her nerves, she pressed her hands against the edge of the console he'd been working on, gripping it tightly.
Garrus had been edging back to maintain their usual polite distance but he froze at her suggestion; she saw the effect her lowered voice and altered manner were having on him.
C'mon, big guy. Don't make me spell it out here.
Shepard watched his gaze dart over her wildly; she could see the flicker of readouts flashing on his visor and knew he was checking her biofeedback. He swallowed hard enough that she saw the movement in his throat and that's when she felt the first surge of victory. Hotter, fiercer than any she'd felt on the battlefield.
So what if he was turian and she was human? He was still a man. With that encouraging sign, Shepard felt her mouth curve into a wicked smile and she dove right in.
"How about we test your reach..."
His precious calibrations beeped and protested under her reckless grip on the console, and he didn't even blink. He was staring back at her; fascinated and unsure, but utterly, completely focussed on her. Her smile widened with the sure sense of triumph.
"... and my flexibility?
A/N - I know, I know! I hate cliffhangers normally, but I just couldn't write this scene from only one side... The next chapter should be out in a week or so and will take off from this point. Don't hate me! :)