Garrus and his squad mates had been given one order before they boarded the ship:
Leave one alive.
He was trying to remember that objective as he currently choked the red headed one to death, relishing in the drool that dribbled from its pink mouth. He couldn't get over how soft they were. So easy to strangle. No armoured skin protected its throat, no plated shell made it harder for him to end the little thing's life. He simply had to hold its air ways shut and wait patiently.
These were the first new aliens he'd encountered. Though not the first contact the turians had made with them. There had been rumours of a new species opening any Mass Effect relays they could find without thinking of the consequences, or gaining permission from the Council. Then little over a week ago, Lieutenant Abrudas and his men had discovered the culprits – parked outside Relay 314 and attempting to open it. Garrus did not know all the details. He wasn't sure who had opened fire first, only that the aliens had fought, and were to be considered dangerous; if not very intelligent.
Thanks to all the stories, he had been expecting something more like the Krogan: big, tough, and hell bent on destruction. But these creatures resembled a fringeless Asari more than anything else. Though, saying that, one of them did fight like a krogan.
Say one thing for Garrus, say he was perceptive. This creature had caught his eye from the beginning; shooting his friends with an impressive accuracy and shouting out in their strange language. It ordered the others without hesitation, and they followed with equal confidence. But the fact that it clearly had a bit of authority was not what captured his full attention. It was when it begun to hit Tonn again and again with the butt of its gun, smashing his mandibles to a pulp even when the turian was clearly done fighting.
That had pricked his rage, and he had leapt to intercept the red headed alien as it unleashed havoc on the men; allowing her crew to flee while it continued the fight on its own. It had even landed a few well aimed shots at his cheek plate, which was now burning in pain. Though he paid it no mind. He was hell bent on revenge.
It snorted and wheezed against his palms. Garrus noted how much the aliens seemed to leak. Literally from every hole on its face. Liquid was pooled in its' eyes, dribbled down its mouth and bubbled out of its little nose all at once. Eventually it went limp against the wall and closed its eyes, yet he continued to squeeze.
"Garrus, put it down." Ira insisted, the two of them didn't get along at the best of times, but she seemed honestly concerned. Crouching over Vestre, one hand held his bleeding mandible to his face as she looked on with a frown.
Garrus ignored her and continued. He wasn't finished, and one of his father's favourite mottos echoed in his mind.
Do things right or don't do them at all.
"Garrus." Ira said again, pleading.
"No! Did you see what it did? Did you see what it did to Vestre?"
"And we can save him. But only if you help me."
He let the alien fall in a graceless heap. She was right; and spirits willing, it was already dead. He didn't know.
He didn't care.
It was a side of Garrus few people saw. He was usually polite, calm, and calculating. Maybe not the perfectly obedient turian his cultural norms demanded, but somewhere close. It was only in a fight when he turned ruthless, and only when his temper was tested that he lost all control.
He turned to Ira, who had started to drag Vestre towards the docking tunnel by his arms. The alien's ship was a lost cause, and he could hear the rage of the engine fire. Clearly this new species were not very advanced. He doubted the ones who had fled would survive.
Good. He had suddenly developed a very grim opinion of these strange, squishy aliens.
Garrus reached out to help Ira with her heavy load, but she simply clicked her mandibles impatiently and nodded towards the alien.
"I meant take it to the ship, I've got him."
"Are you insane?! It's a monster."
"You remember our orders. The commander wants one alive."
Of course, a good turian followed their orders to the letter, but he didn't feel like being a good turian, and he glanced back to the thing with a low growl. It was still on the floor, folded over on one side and seemingly lifeless. But Garrus could see the gentle rise and fall of its chest, and his visor flashed a heart rate with a blink of his eye. It was breathing. It was alive.
Crap.
Maybe he was a good turian after all. Or maybe he just wanted to stay on Ira's good side for the next time they had a tie breaker. But Garrus stepped forward and flung the alien over one shoulder despite his qualms, before following her back to their own ship.
It was a lot lighter than he'd expected, and appeared to be soft all over. Its head banged against his lower back, dangling hands precariously close to his waist. Even unconscious it still managed to be annoying, and he jostled it roughly into a higher position.
They were the last group to return, and the air lock had barely closed before the engines purred to life and they were leaving the human vessel to float dead in space.
He was not sure what to do with it. The cruiser was big, even for a turian ship, yet he felt like he had few options when it came to prison cells.
Ira dragged Vestre towards the medbay – a few others stepping forward to help once her struggle was noticed – and no doubt the alien needed medical attention too, he was just unwilling to provide it.
Maybe he could dump it in the garbage disposal and let it get sucked out into space.
"Vakarian," He was saved from making the decision himself with the arrival of Commander Fidus, who looked at his cargo with a gloomy frown. Garrus couldn't tell if he was pleased with him or angry. It was always impossible to tell until the turian was either giving you a pat on the back or sending you down to clean the toilets. "Comm room. Now."
"Yes, sir." He followed suit, passing through the already busy CIC. Most of the crew seemed unscathed and were back to their stations, working with a strict efficiency that the turian fleet was famous for. Few even noticed the creature on his shoulder, though one or two flashed heated glares in its direction. Garrus did not doubt that the medbay was seeing its fair share of patients despite the calm atmosphere up near the galaxy map. He needed patching up himself, face oozing blood thanks to the violent alien and its surprisingly good aim.
Apart from that he felt fine, though talking was proving painful. Which was why Garrus wasn't pleased to find himself in a meeting.
"Put it on the table." Fidus said as the doors swooshed open to a well sized room, its only furniture being the large silver table gracing the middle of the floor.
"Ah. Garrus is it? Good work." He had failed to notice the turian lurking in the far corner, stomach dropping as he locked eye contact with the spectre. He had been avoiding Saren since he joined them a week ago – as had the rest of the crew. It was a natural reaction. Even if he was a turian, spectres were bad news, and there was something particular about this one that rubbed Garrus the wrong way.
"I – er, thank you, sir."
Saren dipped his chin in a curt nod, apparently done with small talk. Grey eyes, cold and scathing, trailed over the alien now stretched out on the table. Garrus followed his lead, and noted how the skin was turning a blotchy purple around its neck. He guessed it was a defence mechanism of sorts, but as far as those go it seemed pretty useless. The rest of the skin had turned as white as bleached bone, and glistened under a layer of sweat.
"Whats wrong with its' fringe?" Commander Fidus said. He reached out to curl some of the red strings around his talon with a delicacy that bellied his great size.
"We don't know… yet. The first one we captured died prematurely." Saren shrugged, "they possess no protection to Palaven's solar radiation, we're sure of that. I'm please we now have a spare."
"Spare?" Garrus asked before he remembered he was too low in the ranking to be asking questions.
"Indeed," said Commander Fidus. "Saren dragged another through shortly after we made contact. However, we doubt it will survive the night." He was still trailing the flimsy fringe through his fingers, glaring down intensely and unable to just let go and step back. It weirdly annoyed Garrus, and he was surprised to be wishing his commanding officer would just leave the damn thing alone. "Saren had to use… extreme measures to bring the other aboard." Fidus flared his mandibles over the fact.
"Yes, despite their appearance it seems the new species are quite capable of defending themselves. What about this one, Garrus, did it put up a fight?" If he was honest, Saren made him a little nervous, and he had to force himself to maintain eye contact with the smug turian.
"Yes. A little, sir."
"Violent little creatures, aren't they?" Fidus mused, finally placing his hands behind his back and straightening to his full height. "Yes, we'll probably need the spare. But I don't want them put together. Where is the other alien, Saren?"
"I locked it in one of the storage cupboards, near the medbay. Your doctors are doing everything they can, of course."
"Of course." Fidus agreed.
"Of course." Garrus followed, because he had to, with only the slightest tone of bitterness lining his voice.
"This one looks like it could do with a doctor too. Hmm. Lock it in another storage unit, Garrus. Make sure everything inside is sealed first."
"Yes sir." He saluted then moved to pick the creature up once more, jostling it over his shoulder with little effort. Yet he found his feet unwilling to budge. Definitely his father's son, Garrus had a hunger for more information, and turned back to the men with a nervous clear of his throat.
He really was a very bad turian.
"Forgive the query, sir, but why are we keeping two alive?"
Saren's mandibles locked stiffly, Fidus chuckled.
"Well, forgive me for answering a question with another question, but do you consider our best weapon against a new enemy?"
Garrus mulled over that for a while, thinking about his father in C-Sec. A successful investigator, the man was always asking questions, and constantly persevering.
"Knowledge, sir?" He said finally, shoulders stiff as realization slowly dawned on him.
"Exactly! Knowledge. Information. The more we know about this new species, the easier it will be to crush them. Don't interpret our kindness as a mercy, Garrus. These prisoners are to be treated well, but that's exactly what they are: prisoners."
Saren scoffed, folding his arms over his chest. "More like experiments, once the salarian gets here."
"Salarian?"
"Dr Solus, brilliant mind. Or so I'm told. He was studying the first alien we captured back on Palaven. Before the… ah… radiation incident." Fidus shrugged. "If you must know, Garrus, we're to wait here in case any more of these creatures return and attempt to open the relay. Solus will be joining us here in a week or so to continue his studies with the new subjects."
"Hurrrr….nnngh…" as if on cue, the alien groaned, and the three of them jerked in surprise. Garrus had almost forgotten it was there, and finally decided the questions could wait.
"By the medbay, Garrus." Fidus reminded him, fringe plates resting in a gentle expression.
"Yes, sir. Going, sir."
"Oh, and you'll be taking first shift."
He knew he'd already pushed them too far, but he couldn't help himself, and another question bubbled forth despite his hesitation.
"First… shift, sir?"
"Yes. Someone has to guard it. The entire crew wants it dead, and I understand why enough to not trust everyone to control themselves. You and Private Ira will rotate guard duty."
His expression drooped, shoulders slumping.
This not only meant that it would be impossible for him and Ira to have any free time together, but also that he would now be spending his every waking hours guarding the very thing he wanted dead.
Guard duty. Cleaning toilets no longer seemed so terrible.