A/N:
~Enjoy! And thank y'all for reading!
Note: One question for you guys though: I got someone telling me that FF is dead or something? That's news to me. I don't know of any other great alternatives aside from this place to be sharing my work, but idk; maybe you guys would.
Six hours.
Six hours and they remained steadfast under their intentional coms blackout.
Unmoving. Barely breathing.
Hushed and under the blanket of darkness, the lone human and quarian stood. Waiting.
Tali was acutely aware that this moment demanded their utmost focus, yet she felt compelled to voice a cherished memory, regardless of the risk it posed to their vigilance.
"John." She whispered softly to grab his attention.
John's gaze shifted subtly, a silent acknowledgment as he met her eyes. "What is it, hun?"
"Remember when you first saw me?" She asked meekly, wistfulness vaguely there.
"Yeah. I do." He said at length, pulling from memory his first encounter with her. The one in that alley way on the Citadel. Solemnity obscured his stare.
"I meant on Ullipses." She corrected. She traced the outline of the glass over her face, "When I took this off to breathe the fire and feel the air."
He did recall. He recalled it perfectly. That beautiful and unguarded smile. The raven hair. Her soft skin. And those two eyes, holding galaxies within. It never stopped mesmerizing him since. An angel by all accounts. Ethereal really.
"Of course I remember. But I thought you did it because you had an itch on your nose." Was his playful reply.
"So you do remember."
"How could I forget? You were a hot mess."
She made a face. One that was amused and invoked a little challenge. "Hot mess, huh? Hot mess of what."
"Happy and worried all the same time." He graced her wrist with a gentle touch. "You poor thing. Thought I'd pigeonholed you into the friendzone because you thought you were ugly."
"Well; having John Shepard fall for some alien chick was always going to be a long shot. Don't you think?"
"Nah." He shook his head, "You had me a roped in a few weeks. Honest to god. Plus Tal's, it's not like it's impossible to see anything. Always been able to see that pretty lil' nose. And those gorgeous eyes."
Their fleeting moment of levity, a brief respite from the wing of desperation they'd been under, slowly faded. Tali's soft laugh, a sound of pure, unguarded joy, echoed through their private channel.
"That makes me feel all giddy."
"Still gotta crush on your fiancé?"
"Uh, yeah. I do." She said, smitten.
"Me too."
The fog of silence fell upon them once more. Reality reclaimed its oppressive hold and their smiles waned to nothing. It let their minds wander. Inevitably, Tali reminded herself of losing Lantar and it made her feel like a speck. That brief moment of levity struck her as jarringly out of touch. She felt cloaked by guilt and its shadow grew in the wake of their laughter. It wasn't at all reverent to have found a moment of lightness when they were steeped in the tragedy of having lost someone. A man who'd risked his life in some fruitless attempt to secure the two of them a higher chance to escape the prison and its walls. And yet, here they were. Still stuck. And no results. She shouldn't have forgotten so easily. The contrast of their fleeting joy with everything that'd happened left Tali unsettled and it made her wrestle internally the guilt festering inside.
A bitter sigh escaped her. "I hope Sidonis didn't suffer."
John's reply was a sullen whisper. "I hope so too, Tali."
"Did you ever talk to Sidonis?"
"A handful of times, yes." He said, remembering with a faraway look, "Was like talking to Garrus' twin."
Another bout of quiet third-wheeled them.
"They shouldn't have done what they did." Shepard said, thinking hard and carefully, "He'd still be alive right now."
She couldn't put any words together to say anything.
She watched his shoulders fall slightly. He scanned their sightlines again to make sure no one was near them.
A squawk on the radio. "Get'her one. Report status."
"Status unchanged." Shepard answered with a quick reply of EDI's scheduled check-up, "What do you have for us?"
"Operation Romeo and Juliet rescue now effected. Are you ready for brief?"
Tali was none the wiser, but John gave the empty space in front of him a dry and unimpressed look. Romeo and Juliet. How quaint of a name for an operation, he mused. Even in the shit, they still managed to sneak in snark. It kept the mood above mud, he supposed.
"Ready for brief. Give it to us." Shepard said.
Two lone men stood, their backdrop the earthen surface of Aratoht; her mass swathed by the seeded clouds of the Hegemony's constant and relentless toil of terraforming. Lukh and Thane, bathed under a harsh crimson glow from the Normandy's jump lights, wordlessly gazed into the void as they balanced on the precipice of her cargo doors. Lukh cast his stare away from the abyss and down to his gear. His fifth onceover to make sure his stuff was where it was supposed to be.
"How many HALO jumps have you been on, Krios?" Lukh asked to kill the silence.
"Many."
"Figured a man of your caliber would have." He said, hoping he could dial the stoicism down, "Read about the stuff the jelly beans put you through. With the way they look, you'd be hard pressed to believe they actually have enemies. Let alone enemies bad enough to make something like you."
"They do not give that impression, do they?"
He shook his head. "Nope."
"Thirty seconds." Joker croaked over the radio.
They both waved to those watching from engineering. Legion was there. Grunt. Olasie. Teri. Kylie even. Zaeed and Jacob too. Talukh was not surprised to see Darehk absent of the group. The man's aversion to the geth was enough to not even watch them leave. Funny how all the other quarians were putting up with it. Hopefully that was enough for the crew to stir up some preconceived stereotypes his race was so keen on preserving.
Lukh was always more indifferent to it all ultimately. Though if he was ever asked about it, he'd give people the opinion they wanted to hear. It was weird. He knew. He was supposed to hate them. He was stuck in a permanent hazmat gear with no home to really claim. At least, no home to claim that wasn't a rusting bucket of floating bolts.
But, in the same vain: how many people that weren't quarians lived their plain lives just like him (Save for his integration to Normandy)? They might've gotten to call a particular planet 'home'. But what did it matter? A lot of folks lived in space. A lot. A human or krogan might call out proudly their origins; but it was all vanity. It was a ball of rock. Just pick a spot and live on it. It didn't need to go deeper than that.
"Ten seconds."
Lukh faced the black and brown. "Ready, Krios?"
"I am."
"Jump. Jump. Jump."
Talukh, with the same initiative as Horizon, took the lead. He cast himself over the edge and was swallowed by darkness. Thane followed after.
"Savior-1 to Savior-2. How copy." Talukh asked.
"I copy." Thane answered.
"Homebase, this is Savior-1. Do you read us?"
"We read you Savior-1." Came EDI's reply.
"Getting good copy on you, over. HUDs operational. Will report upon landfall. Out."
Seven minutes of silence and wind.
Aratoht gradually consumed Lukh's entire view until the planet stretched enough for him to see horizons again. As the planet's expanse continued to open up, it revealed to the pair the distant prison – their target eight kilometers west, nestled behind a mountain tall enough to cloak chute deployment.
It was a simple op. Infiltrate undetected. Get Tali and John the juice they'd need for their expired cloaks, and get out.
If fortune favored them, they would complete their task unnoticed, and the batarians would be none-the-wiser. They were also kind of riding on the hope the batarians weren't going to be sweeping the facility with anti-cloaking gear.
Because that would be bad.
They crested the mountain top. Talukh yanked his chute strap and it deployed.
"This is savior-1, chute deployed."
"Savior-2. Likewise."
"Descent nominal. We'll be touching ground shortly."
Just for the hell of it, Lukh gave a good tug of his chute and sent himself into a steady spiral downward.
On final, Lukh flared and gracefully planted both boots on the ground. He watched Thane do much the same.
They quickly wrapped up the chutes back into their packs and set them between a crack in some rocks before adjusting their bearings and beginning their trek to save Shepard and Tali.
Garrus sat himself on his box and stuffed his hands into his pits. The expression he'd plastered on his face was hard but neutral.
Predictably, and rightfully so, Lantar's death encased the man's thoughts like an oppressive cell. It almost seized the forefront of his mind; but it couldn't. Not right now when Tali and John were still stranded on that hellscape of a planet. But here he sat; helpless to do anything about it. So all he could do over these past six hours was mull over a third member of his team being dead while Shepard and Tali skirted dangerously close to being added to his roster of family he'd lost.
His face did not change one iota. The ship's generally airy disposition felt unusually constrictive, as if the walls were beginning to press in on him.
He took in what was barely a steady breath.
The plan, scrambled together within the hour of escaping Aratoht, was fully realized from beginning to end. Yet they had to wait and allow the mess they'd made settle before actually trying to commit to a rescue.
It just absolutely killed the turian that part of the plan meant waiting. Waiting for what felt like eons. The worst part of their plan was riding on Shepard and Tali simply not being discovered.
Seconds to minutes. Minutes to hours.
Add the time all up and the math in his head told him it would only raise the chances of them being caught in that sordid storage depot they were been holed up in.
He leaned as far back as his frill would allow so he could give the ceiling a thousand-yard stare.
His team had paid their respects to Lantar. Token words and an unheard offering that the dead man finally found peace.
It all felt empty. Maybe only to him, he supposed.
The turian had yet to strip himself of his gear. So there he sat. Chest rig still on. Sidearm still holstered. Soot and shrapnel that marred his clothes still keeping him company.
The doors to the battery opened and he looked up to see who was entering.
Huh. He wasn't expecting anyone. Much less the person at the breadth of the door. Or maybe he should've expected some company at some point given everything that'd transpired. It wasn't any secret Lantar was dead and that they were like brothers.
He gave her an unreadable stare and offered her no retort either.
Sensing that he was never going to speak up, she gave him a disarming look.
"Hello, Garrus."
He never could ease, nor dismiss, the unsettling maternal warmth Samara carried. Perhaps it was because she could give him a run for his money if they ever had to kill each other. Or it being the fact he'd killed Morinth. Either or. Had to be one of them.
He dropped his gaze and stared at the wall ahead of him and still said nothing.
"I am not here to intrude or demand." She said plainly, "I only wish to offer my condolences to your loss."
He could barely muster a sound. But it came out. "Thank you."
He wanted to be alone. But there was just no fight left in him right now.
"It's never easy is it?" She intoned, standing a little closer to him and his personal effects, "Companions may ease the burden, but loss is always ventured alone."
"Never easy." He agreed.
"I have seen many things, Garrus. Many awful and, equally, beautiful things." She paused, her gaze drifting past him as if she'd been playing out a library of memories. Gently, she reached out to a small keepsake on Garrus' workbench and played with its weight. It couldn't have served a purpose other than it being sentimental, she observed. It was a crudely carved sculpture of an archangel. Where he'd produced this could have been anyone's guess. She supposed it was a gift from one the many he'd saved on Omega.
"In my long life, I too have lost many I cared for. Friends, family, fellow warriors. Each loss is like a star going out in the night sky. It's a void that never truly heals," her voice was laced with a melancholy wisdom, the kind that only a matriarchal Justicar could bestow.
She turned back to Garrus, her eyes meeting his with a depth of understanding. "But those stars, while no longer visible, burn brightly in another realm, guiding and watching over us. Your friend, your comrade... has joined that tapestry. And though you feel his absence deeply, his light will always remain within and around you."
Samara set the keepsake back down carefully next to his other belongings. "In your times of solitude, when the weight of loss feels unbearable, remember that. His journey continues, as does yours. And in that, there is a form of unity, even in their absence."
It was a gentle offer of solace and it hung in the air. She stepped back to give Garrus the space he undoubtedly needed before bowing her head. "I shall leave you to peace."
"Thank you, Justicar."
She gave him an understanding nod. "If you ever wish to join me in meditation, you are always welcome."
Ever the sentinel of deep understanding and empathy, Garrus thought idly. In the same breath, it was a wonder how the code even allowed that, given its rigidity. "I just might take you up on that. For another time."
"Very well."
As soon as she left, he quirked his brow and never could imagine himself actually meditating. Range time or sparring sounded exceedingly more productive. But he'd locked himself in. And he wasn't one for just issuing platitudes and flaking out. He grumbled and made a mental note to truly give it a shot when he'd let his mind clear a bit more.
One galactic minute passed and he stood up. No point wallowing about Lantar anymore. At least for now. Shit still needed doing and he would've expected everyone to maintain their momentum.
"Sorry, Sidonis." Garrus said through a sigh, "Spirits, I'm so sorry."
He strode out of the battery room, signaled Gardner for a bottle of water (To which he received without having to slow his stride), and entered the sick bay. He saw Dr. Chakwas reviewing her notes at her desk while Dr. Wilson tapped away on a keyboard to some lab equipment Garrus couldn't put a name to.
"Is she finally awake?"
"Only the last twenty minutes." Chakwas said quietly, glancing at the curtain that separated the patient from the clinic for some semblance of privacy, "We're still clearing whatever the batarians put through her system."
The turian took in a steady breath. "Okay."
The old woman touched his hand with hers in a motherly way. "Are you alright, Garrus?"
She was referencing Sidonis. Had to be.
"I'll get better." He decided to say, forcing a dry smile.
"Okay." Chakwas gave him a dour look but handed him a clipboard for him to review.
"Here. Broken ribs. Bruised bones. Broken fingers, toes, and ankle. Contusions. Concussion. Hairline fractures. Superficial wounds from scalpels. I've removed sixty or so staples stamped randomly about her back. Second and small third degree burns on her thighs and buttocks. Signs of trauma on the crotch."
"Thane killed them." Garrus said at length with his hard stare against hers. Hearing the list almost made him mentally shrug. It was nothing he hadn't seen before on Omega.
"I was told. Said she was still standing when the Kodiak picked them up."
"Tough lady." He said with a sigh. He could hear Miranda talking quietly within Kenson's curtained room.
"I'm going to see her now."
"I'll be here."
He strode about four steps before slipping through the drape. "Hey. How's our guest holding up?" The turian asked to make himself known. Miranda, who'd been essentially interrogating Kenson (without the torture), glanced up at Garrus and gave him a pursed smile.
Garrus made no hint of his observation, but Amanda Kenson was a fucking mess. Her eyes were swollen, red, and black. Her cheek sagged slightly. Blood crusted her nose. But somehow, she managed to give him a smile before carefully reaching for the water that'd been placed for her.
"Doing well." Kenson said meekly, "And who do I have the pleasure of meeting?"
"Garrus Vakarian."
"Nice to meet you."
"Likewise, ma'am."
"If you'll excuse us Doctor, I need to speak to Mr. Vakarian."
"Please." Kenson said, relaxing slightly in the pillow.
He gave her a dip of the head and turned on his heel to leave. He followed Miranda until they were both just outside the sick bay's doors.
"So?"
"We've already booked coordinates to Kenson's hideout. We're green lined confirmed and preparing to move. The commander and the others will have to rendezvous with us there."
"Please tell me she was worth securing."
"If what she says is true, then yes."
He uncapped his bottle but did not drink. "Lay it on me."
"I'll be brief. The specifics aren't important right now." Miranda intoned, placing her hands behind her back and taking the time to study the ground with her eyes. "As you can fondly recall, the first Normandy stalled the reapers from using the Citadel as a relay."
"Biding time, as Shepard so aptly put it." Garrus said.
"Biding time." Miranda repeated softly with a frown, "Until now."
He narrowed his stare. "What are you talking about."
"The Bahak relay. It's the reapers' plan b should something happen to the Citadel. In which case it did from your efforts in 83. They're here, Garrus."
The turian's mandibles flared. "If that's true. If that's the case? What are our options?"
Miranda balanced on a heel and shook her head idly before locking eyes with the man. "We destroy the Bahak relay."
"Miranda, that's…" The hundreds of thousands of souls in the system flashed through his mind and he felt sucked dry. "—How would you even go about doing that?"
"A plan has already been well underway. Weaponize an asteroid. Same crude idea the krogans came up with during the krogan rebellions. Attach rockets. Point and shoot."
"This is unreal. Spirits, this is unreal."
"Hearsay." She mumbled, "It's all hearsay until we get harder evidence. We cannot make any calls until we know more."
For once, Garrus actually felt compelled to pump some breaks here.
"We have to think of another way."
"That is surprising coming from you, Garrus."
"I'm aware of the stipulation and the reputation I have. But I'd rather not have to trade so many lives that quickly right when we start the reaper war."
"Suggestions?"
Speculation. This was all just forecasting. They didn't know if this was even true. Spirits he hoped it wasn't true. They weren't even remotely ready for something like this. Reapers here? Now!?
"Feels like I shouldn't even be having to entertain one. We don't even know if it's true yet."
"This is, potentially, a very critical juncture that we're facing. We better start considering alternatives now. The window is closing."
"I should've led with that: How long do we have?"
"Two days from now is when they arrive. Supposedly. But our window of opportunity to destroy it is closing rapidly. No other asteroid within the vicinity yields enough mass to deliver the payload needed to destroy it. At least, not for another eight months."
"So how much time do we really have."
"Seven hours."
He bristled. "That's not… Miranda.—No one's ever even done this before. We have no idea what would even happen." The expression on his face was a scrambled mess of confusion and surprise. "…How do we even know they're transiting two days from now?"
"She's memorized the dates and time schedules. That's all I'm riding on right now. We won't know anything definitively until we're there. But if you're asking what would happen if we hit it with a big rock? Well. An explosion theorized to be as large as a supernova."
The turian did the only thing he could and pinched the bridge of his bony nose. "EDI, you getting this?"
"Yes, Mr. Vakarian."
"Ideas?"
"One, yes."
"What is it?"
"Tell the truth. A broadcast imitating the Hegemony. A warning that an irreversible collision will occur with the relay and to egress via relay to safety."
Neither Miranda or Garrus looked offput by the idea.
"Okay. So play out the scenario. How many can make it out? Best case." Garrus asked, finally looking up at the PA above them both.
"If the Hegemony's system traffic roster is believed accurate, and that every ship manages to depart and is filled to its rated capacity; fifty thousand souls can be saved if the warning is issued five hours prior to predicted collision. Our warning must be issued three hours after initial acceleration of the asteroid to ensure that the calculated collision course cannot be reversed or altered by any opposing force. Additionally, estimates suggest only 30% of the total population are registered as citizens of the batarian hegemony. The majority are enslaved or imprisoned."
Miranda's face turned icy. There wouldn't be but a handful of slaves crossing that relay to see another day. They could absolutely count out anyone shackled to chains and bars. "We'd be saving only slave masters. Quaint."
Garrus said nothing of the quandary. An ethical dilemma, without doubt. Obviously not every batarian owned a slave. But you didn't need anything but a quick poll to know what the prevailing attitudes were in their society. And it was, unsurprisingly, the majority. If Garrus had to pick, he'd rather be saving people foisted against their will into indentured servitude. Not the captors or those complicit in violating fundamental rights to life at such scales.
"How far along are we in Romeo and Juliet, EDI?"
"Thane and Specialist Talukh are proceeding as scheduled. One hour until prison arrival. All operational parameters are within expected boundaries. I anticipate, if operation order remains unaffected, that offshore members will be back aboard five hours from now."
"Okay." Garrus felt himself cool a bit. "Okay; we've got a lot of time to think."
"We have no idea what we're walking into. I want to trust Dr. Kenson's info," Miranda started, before giving Garrus her ice-like visage, "But you trust and verify. I want the crew and the ground team fully prepared by whatever happens these next seven hours."
He nodded in full agreement.
"Then we need to brief the crew. There really isn't any time to waste."
Three hours, forty-six minutes later…
They rounded the last of five hills, and there, nestled by a bulbous outcropping, was the Kodiak. Awas sight for sore eyes, as clichéd as the saying was.
"Audrey, you're in our sights," Shepard said, raising his hand to signal her.
She scanned the cameras and picked them out from the fauna. "Oh. I see you. Let's get you and Ms. Zorah out of here, yeah?"
"Absolutely."
Letting his rifle hang from its sling, a visible ease descended upon the quartet as they approached. The Kodiak's door parted with a subdued hiss, welcoming them inside as they clambered in. At long last, they could finally leave behind the stark and rocky tundra of Aratoht. The patchwork of gray and brown would not be missed.
Thane gave a small raspy cough and sat with Talukh sitting across from him in a slump.
"That was a slog." The quarian infiltrator said.
"Thank you, Lukh." Tali murmured to him, grateful they'd finally parted their feet from this rock, "I don't know what we would've done without you both."
Thane bowed his head slightly. "Of course."
John took a spot next to Audrey as she flipped and pressed a myriad of switches and buttons.
"Contact Normandy. Let 'em know we're on our way." Shepard said, leaning an arm against the headrest.
"Aye."
She adjusted the mouthpiece closer to her lips. "Homebase, this is Wagon-1. Payload aboard. We're exfil. Confirm receipt, over."
They both waited, but Audrey wasted no time in her process of prepping the Kodiak for departure.
No reply from Normandy.
"Homebase, Homebase. This is Wagon-1. We're asset secured. Exfil underway. How copy?"
She closed the kodiak's door and pressurized the cabin. The rheostats gave her thrust and they gained elevation.
"Odd." Audrey muttered, glancing to make sure she was sending on the right channel. Nope. She was on the right one. Delta-5-Xray.
"Homebase, I say again: This is Wagon-1. Objective secured and we're heading back. Acknowledge, over."
Seconds pass. Maintaining a low elevation; no higher than a hundred feet, she eased into the throttle to accelerate.
"Commander; I ain't getting nothin'." She shrugged, "That's so odd, we just checked in with them not two hours ago."
He chewed his thoughts wordlessly. "Try again in a few minutes… You got something to eat?"
"Yeah. MREs down there. That glovebox lookin' thing. Chicken enchilada. Beef soup. Pizza, I think?."
He knelt down to take one of the three white parcels before glancing at the inscription. His eyes may have been sending his brain a signal, but he did not read it. His mind was adrift. Focused elsewhere entirely. A lot had transpired this past day; and there was only more to come. But even then; it wasn't even about that.
Strangely, or maybe not, he'd been wrestling with his empty promise to the prisoners they'd saved.
A mental scoff.
Saved. He didn't save them. He'd bided them only time. Part of him chewed over the mercy that would've been granted by their captors had he just let them pull through with the execution.
They began their slow ascent into the sky and he watched it wordlessly.
An old memory whispered out and he recalled it vividly. He saw Tali. Arms folded loosely over the guard rail, gazing out at the SR1 shortly after his induction to the Spectre program.
Back before either of them had even known each other a day yet.
But the memory wasn't about her, though as beautiful as she was. It was about what was running through his thoughts then. About having to reconcile with the realities that he'd ultimately face being in the position he was in. He'd asked himself if he could ever make a decision that would determine the fate of thousands. A piece of him had wondered if he'd been catastrophizing a bit then.
But here he was with hundreds of thousands on the line. Right here. Right now. And in its irony, he could hardly grapple with his hasty and empty promise to two souls now lost again. So how could he resolve himself to condemn everyone to reap the coming coffin of a super nova he'd be sowing? All of it again to just buy time. To brace against an unknown. To fight some existential threat most refused to acknowledge; let alone even know about?
Another mental sigh. That's all his career was since the first Normandy. Buying people time.
Tethering himself back to reality, he could hear the thrum of the Kodiak return. So he bumped Audrey's shoulder with a light tap of a fist to let her know he was going to hang back in the compartment.
"Get us there in one piece, Audrey."
"Aye, sir. I'll try."
He took a seat and chewed on his tongue.
"No contact, I heard." Tali said, watching him open his pouch of food. He ruffled its contents to get a better eye of what was inside.
"Nope. Can't contact Normandy." He pinched out a bag of skittles and sniffed, eyes a little glossy. He tore off the corner and rose it toward her in offering.
"Want some?"
Tali gave him a nonplussed stare.
"No?" He shrugged and tried to pass off the bag to Lukh. "Skittles?"
"Uh, no."
"Thane?"
"Sure."
John was actually surprised he'd accept the offer. But he obliged him and dropped a few of the brightly colored candies into a green palm.
"I'm not gonna lie, Thane. I didn't think you'd say yes."
He chewed one and looked a little impressed.
"Fruity."
"They're okay." John said with a shrug. He looked over his shoulder to the pilot. "How long until we rendezvous with the others, Audrey?"
"Give or take an hour and a half."
"Then that's an hour and a half for us to rest. Eat some snacks. Take a nap."
John wasted no time in eating his meal. Didn't even bother heating it. He needed to sleep.
Not feeling hungry, Lukh crossed his arms and slouched into the seat to make himself more comfortable.
Rummaging through the pack nestled between her legs, Tali retrieved an SM-10 meal and set to work. She hadn't eaten since they'd left the ship— a staggering 20 or so hours ago. Summing all the time they'd been down there hit her with a wave of exhaustion. She was worn. The trek back to the Kodiak under the sweltering heat did her no favors either. Didn't for anyone.
In the quiet that followed their meager meals, John soon surrendered to slumber, his head lulled to the side. A small moment of comfort from the touch of his shoulder pressing against hers, she mimicked Lukh's posture and let the gentle rhythm of sleep claim her too. Shortly thereafter, her soft snores mingled with the quiet hum of the Kodiak in flight.