A dull ache throbbed underneath Garrus' brow plates. A common occurrence when his blood pressure shot up, especially from the crap red tape. The higher he rose in the ranks, the worse it got, tying him to his job duties. Unable to stop criminals from leaving custody especially caused such headaches—Criminals like Shepard.
Bastings got her released with just light community service for drunken, disorderly conduct. Meanwhile, Aptis' body remained barely processed by the coroner.
Damn Bastings for cutting her off. If Garrus could just have a few more minutes alone with her, maybe they'd have more to go on. He almost had her talking. The way she scrunched her brow, the tears, and her shift in tone when speaking about Speca were all signs she would have broken rank from the Reds any second.
Garrus huffed at the thought. He needed to keep moving forward. Bemoaning that he didn't get her on the first interrogation would not help this case. His father had drilled that lesson into him countless times: Pull through and get the job done.
Garrus focused back on his desk, littered with dozens of datapads. Shepard's processing photo with her dark red crest framing her pale face jumped out before him. She wore the same grimace and knitted brows that Garrus had learned was of anger or frustration on humans.
It surprised Garrus when Shepard passed out, especially how delicate she appeared at rest compared to the photo. How, in his arms, she felt so soft and breakable on the floor of the investigation room. Quickly, though, she had overpowered him when shoving him away. But the most captivating part of the whole tussle had been the glowing bloom of her skin to a bright red that tapered down her face to her tight blue dress.
Garrus flinched and shut his eyes away from the thought. His stomach uncomfortably dropped as he worked out what happened in that interrogation room.
Maybe he had come at her too harshly. For Spirit's sake, she fainted at the sight of Aptis' body. There were no signs of turian blood anywhere on her, with a blood alcohol level higher than he'd ever seen for a human. To pull off damaging the barriers and dumping the body would have been a feat in itself.
The dull pain now stabbed under his eyes. Garrus pinched and rubbed at his plates to ease the tension.
No, never assume full innocence. That's how leads slipped away. She could have easily stood by while it happened. She knew more than she let on, and that was enough for Garrus not to be done with her.
Garrus stared at his screen to comb over the evidence Syllian had gathered. Endless tapes of Citadel security network videos played in front of Garrus. Last, she was seen entering the DarkStar, but Syllian flagged Shepard's earliest detection leaving the same apartment building as Aptis. Garrus's mandibles flared out with excitement—another lead to link her to Aptis. He'd have to congratulate Syllian on that catch later.
Still, Garrus dug as the vids lost her movements between Aroch and Zakera. Until, through heavy backtracking of his own showed her red hair and tight blue dress disappearing on the feed in a cloak—an illegal and unsanctioned use of a cloak. He could easily charge her and bring her for round two of interrogations now.
Hands slammed down on Garrus' carapace, jolting him away from the screen. Ten dark, stubbed fingers dug into Garrus and whorled him away from the screen to the sight of Lamont. The thin human with a tied-back dark crest flashed his teeth at Garrus. Over the years, the uptick of his lips had helped Garrus recognize that as a sign that Lamont was in a pleasant mood. Although Lamont hardly ever wasn't happy.
"You okay, big guy?" Lamont asked with an airy breeze. He leaned heavily on Garrus, oozing his carefree attitude as he spoke.
Garrus tried to relax his brow plates from the stress of pouring over hours of vids to match Lamont's energy, but his voice clipped low in response.
"As I can ever be."
Lamont rubbed at his shoulders. Garrus could not feel it through his armor, but the sentiment remained. He was trying to get Garrus to relax.
"Sooo, I see we have some maintenance workers on the window in the interrogation room. You punching windows now, Vakarian?"
"Biotics. The suspect, Shepard, threw a datapad at the window." Garrus' voice clipped again, trying to go back and focus on the screen in front of him.
"Damn, you know how to piss them off, huh?"
Garrus clamped his mandibles to his jaw. When they were recruits just starting together, Garrus would shoot the breeze with him, as Lamont called it. But now? With the media hammering on this case—and soon he'll know his father will be, too—Garrus didn't have time for it.
"Where are we on the interviews?"
Lamont rolled his eyes. "Okay, in boss mode, are you?" He pulled up his omni-tool, going through his notes. "DarkStar isn't open until the night hours. We'll ask around then. No willing witnesses came forward, even after canvassing the area. D'layne and I are heading to the Aroch docks soon to talk to coworkers."
"Make sure to ask about Shepard too. Right now, we have her as the last person to see Aptis alive." Garrus waved over her files.
Lamont let out a low whistle as he admired her photo. "Pretty. She did all that damage to the interrogation room?"
"She possibly tortured a man to death, too," Garrus said flatly. He knew where the conversation was going.
"What can I say? I like a woman who can kick my ass."
Garrus mimicked the roll of his eyes, which was not something Turians naturally did, but it had become a habit that he had picked up from Lamont. In return, Lamont gave him a playful slap on the shoulder.
"What? Am I competition for you, Vakarian? You liked it when she threw that datapad at you, didn't you?" Lamont let out a hefty laugh while elbowing him in the side.
"She wouldn't be the only one throwing datapads around here soon," Garrus laughed in return, feeling lighter at Lamont's pestering.
"Hey now, someone might have to report you to your pops." Lamont raised his hands in mock defense.
Garrus sighed heavily. "You heard about that too?"
"You know Ridgefield loves to gossip."
"I'll remember that for assignment duties next time."
"Speaking of assignments, could you keep pairing me up with D'layne? I think I have something going with them-"
"I'm not playing matchmaker or whatever you call it. Just ask them out already." Garrus rolled his eyes hard to give a hint to Lamont. He needed to drop it and get back to work.
"Fine, fine. Back to boss mode," Lamont let off. "You want us to canvas the apartment after we hit up the docks?"
"I'll handle it. I'm heading out there. I just want to go over these vids again." Garrus returned to the screen, where several vids showed Shepard's whereabouts on the Citadel. What he really wanted was to save finding Shepard for himself.
Lamont leaned over Garrus, eyeing his screen. "She's cute and all, but you're just a little too obsessed. It comes off as desperate."
"Someone's got to work around here," Garrus said dryly.
"Let me put myself to work, then. Why don't I get you a tea? You look like you need to come up for air."
"Nothing that will kill me, please."
"For you? Only the best boss."
Aptis' apartment stood at the corner of rows of dingy gray and orange buildings deep in the Segusk district. Graffiti in various languages, from human to batarian, lined the walls, covering a half-finished mural dedicated to the council. An abandoned sky car rotted on the barely used Skyport while the gleaming presidium watched over the district.
Garrus pushed past loiters who lined the apartment's entrance. Although most who walked the wards avoided Garrus' approach, he kept his hands ready in case anyone attacked. C-Sec officers didn't last long in districts like Segusk.
When he entered the top level of the apartment hallway, three eyes of a batarian woman peered out. The door quickly shut as he grew closer to her. He passed the next neighbor, where muffled wailing seeped through thin walls. Booming club music blasted from below. C-Sec was surrounded here. Someone had to know something about Shepard.
Aptis' apartment opened into a cramped living room where dark red furniture lined the walls. A divider penned off a small section set up as a child's room. A circular bed, shaped to mimic the carapace of the fledgling's parents, pressed up against a narrow window.
The child, Speca, had been taken into foster care in the Aroch ward. It may have been a threat to guilt Shepard, but it was true. The care system, especially in districts like Segusk, was a mess. If the kid did end up as a duct rat, that wouldn't shock Garrus.
Next, the kitchen laid in disarray with a mix of dextro and levo food stables. Odd for a turian household. Possibly for the asari babysitter. But not much else was of interest to Garrus.
Garrus moved on to the cluttered main bedroom, where a larger circular bed remained tucked in the corner with sheets spread to the ground in a mess. A steel desk covered in datapads took up most of the space. A small old terminal chugged away, logging out any encryption attempts.
Most of the datapads also locked out any attempts to browse the content. However, a few opened up to tracking medical supply shipment data to the Sahrabarik system. Another datapad read blueprints of a refueling station. Imprinted and pristine lettering marked both datapads as property of the Aroch Docking Bay.
Aptis was a simple dock worker, even with an engineering background. Why did he have these logs?
"Let's get forensics on this quickly. I want encryption on these devices." Garrus waved over Ridgefield, who began to log them into evidence.
Stifled yelling against the neighboring wall brought Garrus' attention to a photo of Speca. The fledgling face covered most of the frame with her mandibles wide and spread out in a grin. The photo cycled to a thin turian woman with yellow plates and dark red colony markings of Apparitus.
Silbia Casotin. Citadel records had her listed as Aptis' bondmate, who passed four orbits ago off the Citadel. The obituary had listed her death as a quick illness but did not divulge further. The next photo cycled to her again, her eyes sunken further behind her plates and mandibles clamped tightly on her face in discomfort.
Garrus tried to study her wasted-away appearance more as a new photo quickly cycled in its place. A shock of a red wiry crest caught Garrus off guard. A flash of bright white flat teeth beamed at him. Human. Not just any human—Shepard.
Shepard with Speca sitting on her shoulder, teeth flash out, definitely in a smile, almost like Lamont's.
What was she to Aptis?
"He was my—"
Was she just his contact with the Reds? A friend? What did she have to do with Speca?
The next photo cycled to Shepard's scarred covered arm around Aptis' carapace as they smiled at the camera. His pale plates and green colony markings were still intact. His eyes brightened with life and happiness—And directed at Shepard in a lidded gaze.
Lover?
Another flip put Garrus' stomach at unease. Turian and humans weren't a common pairing. Shanix's wounds remained fresh, mainly to humans. It was something he wouldn't expected from her background with the Reds, either.
Garrus had been hunting for more evidence of her the whole morning, and there, her image displayed her in a brief moment of glee. Garrus' eyes followed the red that tapered down Shepard's face, trailing past her neck and blooming into brighter, attractive pink hues on her shoulders and collarbones.
Attractive should be the last word used to describe a human. They were too soft and weak, with faces that moved in odd, unnatural ways. Yet Garrus' eyes remained fixed on Shepard's reddish hues and beaming white smile. Garrus' mandibles twitched, trying to push the thought and himself away from the photo, looking for any other evidence of her.
A muffled yelling from the shared walls thankfully distracted Garrus as he leaned in to listen. Mostly translation errors kept occurring until three words cut clear into his mind.
"Fuck your runs!" Shouted from an all too familiar flat voice. Human. Again Shepard.
His stomach soothed as the more logical realization washed over him. She was not Aptis' lover but his neighbor. The same one who must have been wailing as he'd passed the door. Maybe she was innocent after all?
Either way, he needed answers. Garrus assigned his team to continue combing the evidence so he could study it later. He had more pressing matters to see what Shepard knew, even if it took him knocking on her damn door himself.
Garrus approached the rusted door of her apartment with a quick, hard knock on its frame.
"C-Sec, we're doing an investigation on your neighbor," Garrus announced loudly. She probably wouldn't answer to him, but he hoped his presence would put the pressure on her.
A muffled sound of clanging crashed behind the door. Garrus knocked louder, raising his voice.
"Listen, I know someone's there. I have some questions. It would help. We're trying to help your neighbor, Aptis. He was murdered."
Garrus didn't want her to catch on that he knew where she lived but hoped his insistence would lead somewhere. It was not like he could crack down the door without a warrant, even though every instinct in his body told him to.
"Fine, but if you have anything, let me know, ask for Officer Vakarian with C-sec."
The latch of a deadbolt soon followed his pounding fist against the door. He'd just have to taunt her out another way by asking around, especially about her to her neighbors.
Garrus pushed forward and worked his way through the hallway. He was almost certain she started following him as he made it halfway down her floor. A cloak can only hide so much. A prickling sensation ached at the back of his fringe. He was being watched.
He continued to canvas and asked about her specifically to anyone who cracked open the door. Garrus mainly met silence or thuds of doors quickly closing on him.
One frail older human wanted Shepard on the C-Sec record as "a horrible babysitter for the turian brat. She always lets her run wild down the hallway." Garrus decided to keep that statement off the record.
Dread pulled at Garrus' shoulders as the prickling sensation grew. He turned, searching for Shepard at his back, only to be met with shadows. No clues or even faint outlines of her form; she was a damn good stalker if he had to give a compliment.
Garrus couldn't wait any longer. He knew she wouldn't be out until he was alone. Garrus announced his departure loudly to his team while triple-checking his shields and armor before stepping out onto the apartment stoops.
The skyport remained illuminated by orange neon signs advertising the rapid shuttle service. Car rentals remained parked, with rusted-out benches lining the station. He crossed the barren street with his hand near his hip, ready to grab his pistol, especially in a district like this, while Shepard stalked him.
The neon lights flickered briefly, causing Garrus to hold his mandibles tight to his jaw. The sudden glitch he had seen time and time before was a tech inference. Shepard was close by. Garrus kept himself in view of the apartments in case anything went pear-shaped, as Lamont would say.
He did not have to wait long before the shuffling of sneakers approached him. Garrus whipped around with his pistol out before he could register Shepard's voice.
"Hey, asshole!"
Garrus' pistol was again trained between Shepard's eyes, ready with kinetic ammo. She stood only ten feet away, arms raised, wearing loose-fitting sweats. The thin fabric of her sweatpants outlined the shape of a pistol strapped to her ankle.
Ten feet away, but she could easily take him down. Garrus pressed his feet further into the ground, ready to jump if need be.
"If you want to talk, leave my home out of it. We can meet on my terms—alone," Shepard barked with a grimace he'd become accustomed to seeing on her.
"How do I know you will be?" Garrus' pistol remained readied. His sub vocals waivered and only hoped she did not pick that up. Backup was too far to follow this time.
"You don't," she spat out.
Garrus scoffed. "Then what makes you think I will either?"
"You want to solve this, right? I'm the best damn lead you got. You show up with anyone else, and I'm off this fucking station."
Garrus laughed loudly at her demands. A stinging sensation of blood rushed down his arms and hands. Thrumming hums of the districts filled his eardrums. His vision narrowed on her stance, watching every inch of her. To be out in the open in such a district, alone, with his gun drawn, Garrus felt alive. He needed to keep her here on his terms to keep it that way.
"And what about Speca? You'll just leave her here? Alone ?"
Shepard's brows knitted tightly together. In anger? Or sadness? Those two were still hard for Garrus to work out, but his taunting worked as her posture slumped at the question.
"Fuck!" Shepard yelled out with a wince. She rubbed her face, hiding her eyes. His talons itched the trigger at her sudden movements. Her head snapped up with the grimace now gone, but her green eyes reflected Segusk's orange glow on forming tears.
A meek cry broke over his translator. "Is she safe?"
The same red hue from earlier spread across her pale features. The spread enthralled his sights as he remained focused on her. Her hands trembled as she covered her face. Maybe he was pushing her too far over the edge.
"Yes. She's in foster care." Garrus automatically answered, trying to soothe her concerns before she broke.
Shepard wiped away at her reddened face while letting out a small sigh. Her eyes scanned over Garrus. His arms grew heavier as he held the pistol still trained on her. He needed her to trust him if he was going to get anywhere in this case. Without a word, Garrus lowered his pistol to the ground.
Wide green eyes stared at him as her shoulder rounded out in a relaxed form. Her lips turned up for a split second before she took another deep breath. Her body continued to tremble as she walked closer to him, hands still raised in defense.
Five feet away now, and Shepard's pink tones gleamed clearer against Segusk's neon lights. Her eyes never left his as she intently crossed past him before collapsing onto a nearby bench.
Fine, thin strings of her red crest fell from her hoodie, blocking most of her face as she stared at the concrete. Mumbled words escaped her lips, almost too faint for his translator.
"She's better off without me."
Garrus took two careful steps towards her, watching her every moment and tick of her body, almost as if he were approaching a wild varren. Her eyes remained lost on the ground as she mumbled to herself.
"This is all getting out of hand."
"Then why don't you tell me what you know? I can help." Garrus tried to soften his tone, appealing to her now while she was mournful.
Shepard's eyes darted to the pistol, "Uh-huh, is that supposed to convince me?"
His stomach dropped again. Even in her weakened state, she put him in unrest. The crack and shatter of a window was still fresh in his mind. The suffocating ozone that had filled the interrogation room still held tight on his throat. Any second, she could snap him in half.
Shepard's voice cut him out of the memory. "You can put it away. Don't worry, I don't have a datapad to chuck at you."
"Just an illegal cloak, pistol on your ankle, and oh right, you can throw me with your mind," Garrus said flatly.
Her brows shot up, and a small tick of her lips turned upwards. "Observant. But my biotics aren't that good. I'm fried. I might pass out in your arms again if I try."
Every instinct in his body told him to have the pistol out and ready. But instead, Garrus relaxed his arms and holstered his weapon. He needed to meet her where she was at.
"I'd like to avoid repeating the stunts from this morning." Garrus pushed the thought of her heat pressed into him when he caught her. His fingertips still burned from the memory.
"Thanks," her eyes darted to his holster before shifting in a more relaxed pose on the bench. "I do appreciate you not letting my head get cracked on the ground, though," Shepard remarked.
"Yeah, well, the paperwork would have been annoying to fill out."
Shepard laughed loudly, almost like Lamont's, until it died into a slow breath. She tipped her head back, watching the spinning ring of the presidium. Her red crest dangled out from under her hood.
"I'm just so tired. I need to eat. I'm going to crash." Her voice came out flatter than he thought possible for a human.
Her eyes closed and relaxed as she had been on the interrogation room floor. The loose pieces of crest framed her soft features until her pale hands absent-mindedly pushed them away.
Green eyes shot open wildly as Shepard searched her surroundings. She pulled her hood tighter over her head, hiding any loose pieces of her crest. Lines of data passed quickly over Garrus' visor. Her heart rate increased, and her breath rate quickened—all signs of panic.
"Please, if you actually want to solve this, to 'help'. Meet me here." Shepard stumbled from her seat as she waved her omni-tool to send a nav point. Garrus jolted back from her movements but stopped himself from instinctively grabbing his gun as she continued to babble.
"Alone. I can't be out here, I can't let them see me, I-"
Garrus put his hand up, signaling for her to stop. "I'll be there. Alone. I'm trusting you on this, Shepard."
Shepard's eyelids closed tight as she stood as if she tried to balance herself against the spin of the Citadel. The rise of her chest slowed, and her heart rate normalized on his visor. Silence filled the air between them as Garrus waited for her next move.
"Thank you, um, er, Vakarian."
"Better then, asshole," Garrus retorted.
"I can always go back to calling you it."
Garrus choked back a laugh. "No no, Vakarian is fine."
A curt laugh left her lips in return. "Alright then, I should go," Shepard said, bringing up her omni-tool and punching in commands. "Leave here in thirty minutes, and then meet me. You're buying."
The nav point directed Garrus ten blocks from their location into Segusk's warehouse district. Before Garrus could push further, the faint outline of her cloak enveloped her. Her shimmering form ran down a nearby alley, barely visible to Garrus, leaving him with only the echoes of her footsteps.
Garrus clamped his mandibles to his jaw, trying to hide a smile. This was heading exactly where he wanted, off the books, solving this without the red tape–Alone.