There's nothing left, so save your breath…
Lying in wait (Caught inside this tidal wave)…
Your cover's blown, no where to go…
Holding your fate (Loaded, I will walk alone)…
- Breaking Benjamin, Blow Me Away
Sliding through the blood stained remains of the Cerberus detail, the Normandy's crew went about fulfilling their orders. Joker showed Tali, Liara, Javik, Kaidan and Wrex the maintenance shaft they were to take up to engineering deck. Hackett hung back, behind the storage units, grunting in pain as Traynor kept a gentle but forceful hand on his shoulder to keep him still. Vega and Tychus were presently attempting to pry open the elevator doors with a very large and a very heavy crowbar Cortez had found among the remains of the dismantled Kodiak.
Garrus paced back and forth between the doors and Cortez's work bench, wringing his hands together anxiously. He was quickly becoming all too agitated with being confined to the hangar and their lack of progress. By now, he had expected more results than simply killing the power and disabling their AI.
At the moment, Garrus wasn't too keen on their odds. A dead ship, Cerberus enemies and a Commander who was possibly closer to death than she cared to admit. Sure, the stims and the drugs Chakwas had administered were doing a fine job at keeping Shepard up and moving, but how long until they finally wore off? It was possible she could keel over at any moment, the stress on her weakened system simply too much to bear. He wanted to believe more than anything, that she could keep hauling ass, like she always did, but right now, he just wasn't too sure… and he hated the uncertainty.
Their current situation opened a floodgate of memories long since repressed for him, ones he preferred not to revisit.
Perched atop his balcony, Archangel surveyed the devastation below him through the scope of his sniper rifle. He had been in the same position for two day… or was it three? He couldn't remember, and his judgment was beginning to cloud. The stims were starting to falter, and he was running low on rations and water. He couldn't even remember the last time he had slept.
Mercs fell left and right with every squeeze of his trigger, but where one fell, two more would take position across the bridge. Right now, it was nothing he couldn't handle, but if the situation he found himself in continued to progress, he would soon be overrun… unable to hold off against three merc groups hell-bent on killing him. The bodies of his companions littered the floors of the hideout, their bodily fluids mixing together like some sort of grotesque rainbow of colors.
He heard a blood coated wheeze come from his right. Glancing out of the corner of his eye, he could still see the large form of Butler, leaning against the half wall of the balcony, body hurling and lurching as he coughed violently, spewing crimson blood from his mouth. Archangel hadn't realized the man was still alive, let alone still conscience.
"Hang in there Butler! It's almost over!" Archangel shouted over the rapid gunfire of the mercs' weapons. Breath rattling, the human slowly turned his blond head toward Garrus. His face was pale and gaunt, his voice cracking and breaking as he spoke, "L-Look at me, Archangel… Y-You know perfectly well t-that I'm not going… going to make it…"
Butler groaned once more, clutching his abdomen, blood spilling into his shaking hands. Archangel stood up once more to pick off four more mercs as fast as he could reload, before he took cover behind his makeshift barricade.
"T-Tell my wife… Tell Nalah… I love her…," Butler panted, his breaths shortening as he struggled to sit up more.
"Don't talk like that! We're going to make it out of here! Just you wait!" Archangel growled, tossing the man one of his last stims. He wasn't about to lose the last member of his squad.
"Ehh… D-Don't worry about... me… I'll be…," Butler's voice trailed off as his body heaved with one final breath, his head lolling to the side. Archangel didn't need to look at his visor's readouts to know Butler was dead, out of habit he checked the stats anyways. The man remained still… unmoving… leaving Garrus quite alone… and regretful.
Archangel jumped to his feet and unleashed a volley of bullets into the mercs, crying out furiously in vengeance. Sidonis would pay for his betrayal in blood. The glint of Archangel's scope and a bullet hurtling toward him would be the last thing he would see, understanding that Garrus was the one who pulled the trigger would be the last thing he ever knew.
Ducking down below his barrier, Garrus closed his eyes and rested his pounding head against the cold metal of the blockade.
"Damnit," he whispered, his voice drowned out by the sound of gunfire. Summoning up enough courage and swallowing some of his pride, he made what would probably be his last call, punching the code into his omni-tool as he pulled his helmet over his head.
After what seemed like an infinite number of rings, Garrus was relieved when he heard the sound of his father's voice answer him through his earpiece.
"Hello?" Tychus said calmly, unaware of the situation his son had gotten himself into.
Garrus choked back the lump in his throat and replied, "Dad…"
"Garrus? Is that you?" his father questioned, concerned. "What's that noise?"
Archangel laughed derisively, "Just a little target practice."
Nothing should come between a turian and his rifle, not even family. Garrus could almost see the disapproving scowl as Tychus responded with annoyance, "Then call me back later."
"I… I don't think I'll be able to do that," Archangel said furtively, not wanting to give away the gravity of the mess he had created.
"Oh…," Tychus answered, understanding seeping through his subvocals. " I see…"
Garrus blind fired several more shots over top his improvised cover, the gunfire reverberating in his ears. "I just wanted to hear your voice…," he said. "Wanted to see how retirement was treating you. You good?"
"I'm fine. Forget about that,"
The merc body count continued to rise on the bridge, but so did the number of guns gathering at the entrance. They would soon breach, and there was nothing that would stop them from getting to him.
"Listen," Garrus began solemnly. "I don't have a lot of time… I-I wanted to say… You were right... about things… A lot more than I gave you credit for… And... I'm sorry we butted heads so much."
Tychus' tone changed from C-SEC detective to that of an overly concerned father almost instantly, "I said, forget about that… These targets you're practicing on… They're moving fast?"
A Blue Sun foolishly poke his head out from behind his cover, and Garrus dropped him where he stood.
"So far, not fast enough… but they're learning,"
"How are you on thermal clips?"
Garrus reloaded once more, counting maybe half a dozen clips scattered around him, and shrugged, "You know how it is… Could always use a couple more."
He could hear his father sigh in his ear. Tychus knew instinctively things were getting bad for his son, but kept his voice level and calm. Garrus was grateful for it.
"Work with what you got then. You don't stop pulling that trigger until it clicks, son," Tychus instructed. It was just as if Garrus was twenty years younger, and his father was instructing him on how to use a military grade sniper rifle during "real" target practice. "No matter how bad things are falling apart around you, as long as you have at least one bullet left, you can still get the job done. Understand?"
His heart jumped into his throat, catching his voice; a flash of red had just appeared in his sights. Garrus pulled away from his scope and blinked tentatively. For a moment, he thought he was losing his mind and beginning to hallucinate from the lack of sleep, but when he peered back through the scope and recognized the woman with fiery red, short cropped hair, he nearly let out a loud whoop of joy.
"You finish up what you have to do there, and then you come on home to Palaven. We have a lot to sort out," Tychus continued in Garrus' earpiece.
How was this even possible? She had been KIA; Anderson had confirmed it. He had to check again, to make sure he wasn't just dreaming. The woman with the red hair stepped boldly across the bridge, confident she wouldn't be shot. A newly painted N7 was inscribed upon her chestplate, her armor still glossy, barely war-torn and pitted. And while she looked to be the same person he thought he had lost two years ago, she appeared to have aged backwards several years, her eyes wide and the bluest color he had ever seen. Her face also seemed fresher somehow, save for the eerie glowing scars alongside her cheek. Simply by the way she held herself, Garrus knew for certain that the woman he was staring at was Shepard, though he didn't recognize the raven haired woman, nor the heavily scarred man with the yellow armor and the two different colored eyes.
Firing a Concussive Round at her to keep up appearances, he finally responded to his father, relief flooding his subharmonics, "Yeah, we do. Thanks, Dad… for everything." Cutting Tychus off before he could demand an explanation, Garrus continued, his mandibles flared into a wide smile, hidden by his helmet, "I have to go now. Don't worry about me… I'll make it home when I can… The odds just got a lot better…"
Bringing a hand to his scarred mandible, Garrus let out a low breath. Some how, some way, and with a stroke of luck, they had made it off Omega and lived to tell about it. Now that he really thought about it, they had survived numerous encounters in which any other normal team would have been slaughtered: Virmire, Noveria, Ilos, Reaper Saren, the Collector Base, the battle at the Shroud on Tuchanka, Rannoch, even the battle for Earth. Millions, perhaps billions had died for their cause, for Shepard's cause, and yet, their small dysfunctional band of soldiers, biotics, mercs and aliens was still alive.
This certainly wasn't the worst set of circumstances they had found themselves in over the years; perhaps they would find a way to make it through this one as well…
Vega called out to Garrus, interrupting his thoughts, "Ready?"
The elevator doors had been opened, the typically glowing light on the lock, all but dark. Just as he looked up into the shaft and was met with blackness, the gunfire and shouting began.
"Sounds like it's coming from the crew deck…," Hannah said.
Holstering his pistol and slapping a Geth Spitfire to the back of his armor, Garrus clambered into the chute and caught the ladder. The others filed in as he began his ascent to the third level of the ship.
The moment Chakwas opened the door using a medical tray as leverage, Shepard barreled out, omni-blade raised.
The Cerberus guard at the medbay's entrance didn't stand a chance. He didn't even have a moment to whirl around as Shepard drew back her arm, with as much force as she could muster, and drove the blade deep into the back of his neck, underneath his helmet and above the collar of his armor. He dropped to the floor with a muffled thud, unmoving, his spinal cord severed before he hit the ground.
Shepard swiped up the guard's pistol from its holster, an M-358 Talon, not her favorite, but it was better than nothing. Pocketing spare thermal clips, she limped around to the elevator doors, through the pitch blackness, with only the light of her omni-blade to guide her.
The second guard stood in front of the doors, unaware of her presence at first, fiddling with his own omni-tool.
"What's that?" he said into his comms, presumably speaking with the clone. "All's clear on this level…Haven't heard a peep from the medbay… Will do ma'am, Bravo out."
She paused until he was finished, before she charged him. He let out a brief howl as she jumped on him, driving the blade into his chest once… twice… three times. He fell to his knees, and Shepard slit his throat for good measure. Blood leaked onto her clothing, blooming across the front of her recently procured shirt. Panting and ignoring the stain, she scooped up his loose clips, took his pistol too, as a replacement, and jammed it into her belt. Using the wall as cover, she waited.
Two down, two to go.
You like this… don't you?
Shut up! She screamed silently at the voices beginning to take shape in her mind.
The rage… the bloodlust…, they echoed, growing in strength.
She attempted to disregard them.
You crave the vengeance… It's a thrill for you… isn't it?
If it hadn't been for a loud clanging in the old XO's room to shake her back to reality, Shepard may have slumped to the floor, unable to stop herself from sinking into a fit of madness and despair.
The voices coming from Liara's office were full of anger. A number of times, different things could be heard crashing to the floor as the guards inside fumbled about and more than likely knocked into the asari's monitors and computers. Liara would be furious. The minutes ticked by as they continued to shout at one another and collide with the Shadow Broker's equipment.
The bastards could be heard clambering about to force it open. They finally made their way to the exit as Shepard caught a glimpse of a flashlight through a crack in the door. As it slid ajar, she open fired.
The two guards quickly took cover on either side of the doorway, scrambling for their weapons.
"I told you assholes that you would all burn for this!" she shouted at them, popping an expired heat sink from the chamber and reloading. "And I keep good on my promises!"
Bullets flew past her head as they unloaded a volley at her with their modified automatic M-96 Mattocks. She blind fired her pistol off from around cover. This position wasn't going to work for very long. She couldn't get a decent shot off with her right arm. Things would be much easier if her left side wasn't completely immobile.
Sliding around the far outer wall of the elevator shaft and coming at them from a different position, Shepard hauled over one of the mess hall tables, using it as a makeshift barrier. At this angle, she was able to fire freely with her good hand at the expense of only seeing one of the guards.
She waited until they had to reload their own weapons. Standing up and aiming at medium range, she blasted off her entire clip in rapid succession. Several bullets hit the surrounding walls, the doorframe, and one may have lodged itself in Glyph's console, causing the small terminal to shower sparks down onto the Cerberus guard. He batted away the electrical embers, distracting him for the briefest of moments, allowing Shepard to take careful aim and squeeze the trigger. The final shot found its home deep within the back wall. The slug entered through the guard's helmet, between the eye slits and exited at the back center of his head before his entire skull exploded in a deluge of blood and brains, his body slumping to the floor. She heard the second Cerberus sentry shout as his friend died.
Admit it… you find this satisfying… you're no different from them… or the Reapers…
Shepard cried once more, this time verbally, the shriek ripping and tearing through her vocal cords. Frustration, anger, and yes… perhaps even a bit of bloodlust, clouded her vision as she stood from her cover and marched towards the opened door, gun in hand, poised and ready. All she saw was red.
She fired shots one right after the other, a continual volley of hatred and vexation, until her thermal clip was spent, roaring at the guard, at the voices in her head, cursing Cerberus and the Reapers and her own tortured and exhausted mind. The rounds hit the wall, the doorframe, the dead body, and finally, the last guard.
Clutching at his throat, he keeled over, gasping and wheezing to bring air into his lungs. Shepard kicked his hand away and thrusted her blade into his neck, allowing the blood to drain onto the metallic ground. A deep, haunting gurgle bubbled up from his throat and mouth until, at last, he expired.
Your body count continues to rise, Shepard… How much longer will you resist? How long will you defy us? Defy yourself, even?
"Shut up!" she wept, sinking to her knees, in her enemies' blood. "Shut up! Shut up!"
Your resistance is… futile…
Slamming a thermal clip into her Talon, Shepard brought the barrel of the pistol to her own temple and screamed, "How about I end it now?! And just be done with it!"
No voice answered her sobs.
"Is that what you want from me?!"
They were silent.
"Answer me!" she shrieked into the darkness… at nothing…
No one was there…
"Shepard?" came a dual toned voice from somewhere behind her.
She spun around on her knees, slipping in blood, pistol still resting against her head. She stared at Garrus, dumbstruck.
Behind him, her mother, Tychus and Vega all wore the same expression, eyes wide in horror at the state they found her in, mouths hanging agape.
Garrus was first to regain his composure at the sight of her. Approaching her with both hands stretched out in front of him as an offering, he whispered, "Shepard… It's alright… You got them all… There's no one left here."
She shook her head, pistol still in place, and sobbed, "I... Th-they're always here… I can't get rid of them…"
"Aurora…," he said sternly, kneeling down in front of her. "Give me the pistol…"
"It'll never be over!" She cried, tears flowing freely over her cheeks, clenching the trigger ever tighter.
Garrus placed a hand gently over her own holding the gun, and said quietly, "We'll get out of this… We always do…"
She looked up into his grey eyes, and when she did, she collapsed into his arms, dropping the weapon, shoulders heaving as she continued to sob. She felt him wrap his large arms around her, holding her steadfast. She clutched onto his armor as firmly as possible, out of fear he might vanish and she wake up again in that godforsaken Cerberus cell.
After several minutes, she brushed the tears away forcefully, and asked, "We'll get through this? Just like old times?"
Garrus' mandibles flared slightly into a sad smile, and he breathed a sigh of relief, "Just like old times…"
Updated 6/7/14
Garrus' flashback is based on the third Homeworlds comic by Dark Horse.