It was physically impossible for Garrus to crawl into the air ducts and follow, and so he was stuck rushing down the corridor, hearing the occasional clank up above; and trying desperately to figure out which exit she would come across first.
The air ducts ran throughout the entire ship, but some tunnels were closed off to save on oxygen supplies. The next vent was probably in the private bunks. He imagined the Taylor dropping down onto some poor, sleeping cadet. He imagined their reaction when it happened.
Crap.
He nearly crashed straight into Ira around the corridor, who widened her eyes before giving him a scathing glare.
"Hey stranger," she said. "I came to give you a break. Why aren't you outside the door? We're not suppose – "
"SHHHH!"
He clamped his hand over her mouth, pinning her rumbling mandibles to her face as he listened with baited breath. The Taylor had come to a junction up above, and he could practically hear her thinking, deciding which route to take.
Clatter, clatter, clatter.
She turned left towards the armoury, and he headed that way at a jog.
"What are you doing?!" Ira followed, clearly growing more irritable by the moment. She pulled at his arm and scoffed when Garrus shrugged her off, glaring at his head spikes. "You better tell me what's going on right now, Vakarian, or I swear to spirits –"
"She's loose." He snapped, still staring at the ceiling as they moved.
"You let it escape?!" This time Ira succeeded in dragging him to a stop, and Garrus half turned with an impatient glare of his own, the Taylor scrambling ahead.
"She." He corrected.
"How could you let it get out?! It was unconscious."
"She. And I underestimated her, she's resourceful, okay?!"
"That's your great excuse?!"
They marched on, catching up to the clattering up above quickly. Behind Garrus, Ira drew her pistol. "I was just making sure she wasn't dead. Then the next thing I know I'm buried under ten heavy crates and she's climbing into the vents."
"Ugh. Spirits."
Without warning, Ira fired three quick shots at the metal duct above them. Garrus pulled her arm back before she managed the fourth, snarling loudly.
"What are you doing?!"
"Herding it away from the armoury. Don't worry I'll try not to hit it… much."
Three bullets whizzed past her legs, and Shepard curled into a tight ball to avoid them. Light seeped into the holes now left in the metal, and she was almost grateful for the cold air that brushed in with it. She was hot, lost, and couldn't see clearly in the dark.
The last thing she remembered was the blue face alien hissing at her face, and so she didn't know much. Apart from the fact that she was on the alien's ship, she was – unfortunately – very naked, and the bastards weren't messing around.
Well fine, she'd make them work for it.
With a distasteful curl of her lip she picked up the pace. All pretence of being quiet was gone now that she knew they weren't above shooting her out, and Shepard crawled through the air ducts as fast as possible before she got a bullet in the leg. She didn't have much of a plan. In fact it was more of a vague to do list: lose the aliens, find her crew, and get the hell out of here. Granted that sounded easier said than done.
The tunnels broke off once more, and she turned to go left, but two more shots in front herded her right. Oh they were smart, and she growled like a caged animal as she was forced in a direction they deemed more suitable. It was time for plan B. It was time to fight.
Ira was far too liberal with her pistol in his humble opinion, and Garrus winced with every shot. Not only did she risk alerting the entire crew to their presence, but the Taylor's safety was also in danger, and he felt oddly protective when the dumb thing was trapped up there helpless.
"Ira, stop. How are we ever going to reason with her if you keep shooting?" He snapped.
"Who said anything about reasoning? I'm leading it into another storage unit." She shot again, sending the Taylor right instead of left, away from the barracks.
"Her." He corrected with a cold glare, following. "And what if someone hears you? Or, maybe, notices all the holes you're putting in the ship!?"
"I'll respectfully explain how I was simply fixing your mess." She paused at a junction, waiting for the Taylor to move first. When it didn't bother Ira simply shot it into action, five more bullets that forced it right.
If Garrus didn't know any better, he'd think Ira was enjoying herself.
Shepard was sick of being driven like some lost sheep, dodging bullets and scrambling down the air ducts for dear life. She was an N7, she was better than this, and as soon as she came to her first vent opening she was kicking through and down to the ground with the intention to fight.
Only to find she was in another storage room.
"SON OF A - !"
She rushed to the door, but it didn't have any kind of handle and was clearly automatic… somehow. She could hear the alien's just outside, and it sounded like they were arguing. Well, they'd have to come in and collect her sooner or later, and she took cover by one side with a hungry glint in her eyes.
Judging by the strange voices, she counted two. Not the best of odds, considering the genetic advantages these bastards possessed already, but she'd handled worse, and fear did not creep up on Commander Shepard today.
The door swooshed open, a familiar blue face wandered in –
She lashed out with a cry, grabbing him by his head spikes and pulling him down to meet her knee. One, two, three. He snarled and grabbed her waist, lifting her from her feet and attempting to throw her over his shoulder. An awkward wrestle broke out between the two of them, and Shepard was wiggling past him and out the door when the other alien finally stepped in.
Here was her herder. This one was shorter, with no head spikes for her to grab. Her eyes were cold, and held no pity as she shot Shepard in the thigh.
"Argh!" With no shields or armour, she fell forward clutching at her bloody leg. Shepard was surprised to find Blue Face being the one to offer his support and catch her, wrapping one arm around her waist and picking her up gently.
Great. There went her escape.
The two began arguing with each other in those lilting purrs while she clutched onto a plated shoulder for support. She had the funny suspicion that Blue Face was on the side of 'hey why don't we try not to shoot the human?' This was astonishing, considering her neck still burned from his earlier treatment.
Hope drained from her as well as blood. She felt useless and bare and vulnerable. Blue began to carry her down the corridor and she did not even protest, instead attempting to cover up her nakedness feebly with one hand. The second alien followed, staring at her, hard.
"Just wait, you bastards. Just wait." Shepard murmured, before losing consciousness.
When Shepard woke up she felt too weak to even move. Not that it mattered, as someone had strapped her to the bed. Heavy metal bars were slid across her chest, stomach, and thighs, pinning her to the table.
However, this in itself wasn't her biggest problem, as she found herself being poked and prodded by not one alien, but three.
Two she recognised. Her old friend Blue Face, and the Spikeless one who'd shot her, were stood together glaring in different directions. The third was on her other side and further down, rubbing gel onto her bullet wound, which would have been terrifying if the substance wasn't oddly soothing.
"So you're all helping me now? Makes a change." She said, joking with herself seem as it was either that or panic.
Three heads swivelled in her direction. Spikeless sneered, Blue purred words back towards her, mandibles rising slightly. She was desperate to know what they were saying. Naturally, Shepard had a long list of pressing questions. What did they want with her? Where were the rest of her crew? Why were they doing this?
Why were they doing this?
The aliens had, once again, started to argue amongst each other. It reminded her oddly of Ashley and James bickering, and tears pooled in her eyes as she recalled her beloved crew. She assumed the one by her leg was some sort of medic, as the other two had the decency to look sheepish once he'd started scolding them, avoiding eye contact and looking down at their feet. It was satisfying at first, even if she didn't know what he was shouting at them for. Maybe he wanted her unharmed, or maybe he was mad that they hadn't shot her in the head. Hard to say.
Eventually her smugness turned to distress, Shepard rarely found herself completely helpless. She did not enjoy being stuck on a bed whilst they acted as if she wasn't there. It was disconcerting, and she felt panic trickle down her spine and into her muscles. She was getting claustrophobic, and a sheen of cold sweat dotted her skin as the alien's ignored – or simply didn't notice – the warning signs.
"Taayluuurr?" Blue Face suddenly said, pointing at her.
"What?" She said, angry at how out of breath she sounded.
"Taaayluurr?"
"N-No. Shepard. Shepaaaard." Idiot. Where had he even gotten Taylor from?
All three frowned, clearly not the answer they were hoping for. Not that she cared.
"Shepaard?" Garrus repeated, struggling with the guttural language. "Do you think that's her name?"
"No. Who cares? Stop talking to it, Garrus." Ira snapped, rolling her eyes. "You don't even have to be here anymore, you're off duty."
That was true, but he didn't quite trust Ira enough to leave her alone with the Taylor, and they both knew it.
"Hm. Interesting development." Doc said, nearly done with the bandages he was wrapping around her thigh. "It seems the Taylor's are smarter than we anticipated. She can certainly understand us, if given enough guidance."
"She can't understand a word we're saying." Ira said, snapping.
"Not what I meant, Private." The doc looked exasperated, and seemed relieved when he'd finally finished fixing Ira's mess, happy to leave them. "Now if you'll both excuse me, I need to check on my other patient. Try not to kill this one." He bowed his head, paused, and then gave the Taylor a small smile.
If the wrinkling of her nose was anything to go by, she wasn't impressed, and the doctor gave up completely after that and left the room. Garrus wondered if smiles meant something else to her, or if she simply couldn't recognize the expression on a turian face.
"Shepaaard?" He tried again, ignoring the scoff behind him. The little thing seemed to light up whenever he said it, bobbing her head up and down and flashing him her blunt teeth. "Shepaaard. I think that's her name, Ira."
"I think you should stop talking to it."
"Gaaarrrus." He spoke out slowly, pointing at his chest. "Garrus."
"Gurrrrusss?" Shepard tried, looking a little startled in response to his excitement, clapping his hands together and bobbing on his feet. "Yes! Yes! Did you hear her, Ira? It's like having a varren that can slowly learn how to talk."
"Gurrus. Ga – Gaarus. Garrus." Shepard continued to test his name out on her pink little tongue. There was definitely more to this species than he'd previously considered, and the black bruises on her neck suddenly consumed him with shame.
"Ugh. I'm sick of this. You're fraternizing with the enemy, Garrus. We shouldn't even be in the room with it." Ira clicked her mandibles and gave Shepard her coldest glare. That same look that had chilled his blood and told him countless times that he was in deep shit. Yet Shepard didn't seem unnerved in the slightest. If anything, Garrus was sure he could read disapproval on her features, forehead creasing into a… a frown?
Shepard was brave. It didn't take much to figure that out.
Ira gave up and turned away. "You shouldn't be calling it anything. It's best not to get too attached. The spectre will be taking it soon."
"Saren?" He said, startled.
"Yeah. You didn't think we were keeping it on a military ship did you?" Ira scoffed, as if unable to believe his idiocy yet still finding it typical. Garrus tried to ignore the anger rising up in his gut. "As soon as that Salarian doctor shows up Saren's taking the Taylors to the citadel with him."
"Why?"
"How am I meant to know? I'm not invited to those private war meetings either. Spirits. I guess his spectre status will get through all that ethical red tape. Who knows what kinda experiments that bug eyed Solus will want to do?"
Garrus felt the blood drain from his face, he looked back down towards Shepard, who pulled her lips into a tiny – exhausted – smile.
"Garrus?"
"Shepard." He murmured.