The sun was setting down as Garrus and Katie made their way uphill, the silence between them as heavy as the humid air. Each step felt like a reminder of the reality they were trying so desperately to ignore—that despite their best efforts, the world around them remained unchanged. They were still a turian and a human, caught on opposite sides of a conflict that seemed insurmountable.
Garrus's mandibles twitched with suppressed emotion as he led the way. He had suggested they move to higher ground, ostensibly to scout the terrain and find a better route to Sector Three. But beneath that practical reason lay a deeper, more painful truth—he was buying more time before he had to leave her. Again.
Each step took him closer to the final point… and yet…further from everything he knew, everything he was supposed to be. Turian. Soldier. Who was he now? What would he become if he followed this path to its end? The thought twisted in his gut like a knife, but he pushed it aside, focusing instead on the immediate task of keeping them both safe.
As they climbed, Katie found her gaze continually drawn to Garrus's back. She studied the alien curves of his carapace, the way his muscles moved beneath his plates. It was all so foreign, and yet... familiar now. Comforting, even. The realization brought a fresh wave of anguish.
Her world had narrowed to the sound of his breathing, the rhythm of his steps. How had a turian—the very embodiment of everything she'd been taught to fear and mistrust—become her lifeline? Every rational thought screamed that this was madness, that she was setting herself up for heartbreak or worse. How had she let herself become so attached to someone she could never truly have?
Garrus, for his part, was acutely aware of Katie's presence behind him. He could hear the slight catch in her breath as they navigated steeper sections, could smell the subtle changes in her scent that spoke of exhaustion and emotional turmoil. Every instinct screamed at him to turn around, to gather her in his arms and promise that everything would be alright. But he knew that would be a lie, and Garrus Vakarian was no liar.
Instead, he pushed on, his mind racing through scenarios and strategies. There had to be a way to keep her safe, to ensure she made it back to her people without compromising his own position. But every plan he formulated seemed to crumble under the weight of their impossible circumstances.
After what felt like hours of grueling ascent, they reached a small plateau. Garrus held up a hand, signaling for Katie to wait while he scouted ahead. As he moved away, he felt a pang of loss at the increased distance between them. It was irrational, he knew, but he couldn't shake the feeling that every step apart was a step towards their inevitable separation.
Katie watched him go, her heart aching. She wanted to call out to him, to beg him not to leave her side even for a moment. But she bit her lip, forcing herself to stay silent. She couldn't afford to be weak now, not when they were so close to... to what? Safety? Goodbye? The uncertainty of it all threatened to overwhelm her.
Garrus surveyed the surrounding area, his keen turian senses on high alert, his mind went to her. It was a memory from earlier that day, back at their shelter by the river. He had insisted on applying medi-gel to his female's sun-reddened skin.
The recollection was so vivid he could almost smell her again—that blend of human musk and something uniquely Katie. He remembered the way she had leaned into his touch, her eyes closed and a soft sigh escaping her lips.
"I love the way you touch me," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
The words sent a thrill through him, awakening his desire anew. "Good," Garrus growled in response, subvocals betraying his suddenly roused state. "Because I don't think I can ever stop."
His talons traced the curve of her spine, marveling at the alien softness of her skin. Katie shivered under his touch, goosebumps rising on her arms. Garrus leaned in, inhaling deeply, committing her scent to memory. He nuzzled the nape of her neck, his mandibles fluttering against her skin with affection.
Katie turned to face him, and her violet eyes were shimmering with water. She reached up, fingers tracing the blue pattern of his facial plates. Her turian leaned into her touch with a low rumbling purr.
"Garrus," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. Words got stuck in her throat, but she didn't need to continue. He saw it in her eyes.
He pulled her closer, into his embrace, marveling at how perfectly she fit against him. For a moment, they simply existed together, finding solace in each other's arms.
But even in that moment of intimacy, reality intruded. Katie's gaze grew sad, her lower lip caught between her teeth in a gesture Garrus now recognized as a sign of distress.
"It wasn't a mistake," he whispered, breathing her in.
She nodded, but the sadness never left her eyes.
They stayed like that for a long while, holding each other as the alien sun traced its path across the sky. Both knew that soon they would have to leave this sanctuary. But for now, in this stolen moment of peace, they allowed themselves to simply be.
And now, standing on this windswept plateau, Garrus felt that same sadness threatening to engulf him. The recollection of their tender moments only served to heighten the pain of their impending separation.
Shaking off the memory, he turned back to where Katie waited. She stood there, looking small and vulnerable against the vast landscape. He opened his mouth to speak, to offer some words of reassurance, when suddenly, every instinct in his body went on high alert.
A new scent carried on the wind, one that made his plates tighten and his muscles tense. Hostiles. Moving slowly but steadily in their direction. Garrus's mind raced, assessing the threat. At least five of them, trying to move quietly but not quite managing it. To human ears, they might have been nearly silent, but to turian's enhanced senses, they might as well have been announcing their presence with trumpets.
Katie saw the change in him, watched as his posture shifted from cautious to predatory in an instant. She saw him sniff the air in the direction right behind her.Slavers. She could hear them too now, moving through the bushes, getting closer. Her heart sank. She looked at the turian again. His eyes went dark, mandibles flaring in a display of aggression that sent a shiver down her spine. She had seen him like this before, on the day they'd met, when he had been hunting her through the forest.
"Garrus," she whispered, fear tightening her throat.
But he didn't seem to hear her. His attention was fixed solely on the approaching threat, his body coiled and ready to strike. His hand moved to his rifle, the motion smooth and practiced. The voices were clearer now, carried on the wind.
"...heat signatures in this direction..."
"...could be survivors, stay alert..."
When he spoke, his voice was a low, vicious growl that barely sounded like him at all. "Humans."
That one word dripping with hatred and rage sent her reeling. The Alliance search party—it had to be. She could tell, Garrus thought the same. They were on the edge of the cliff, completely cut off. There was nowhere for him to go. And she knew, with a certainty that made her heart ache, that the turian would never consider running. He would stand and fight, even against impossible odds.
Panic seized her as she watched him raise his rifle, aiming it in the direction of the approaching patrol. She could hear them more clearly, their footsteps and muffled single-tone voices growing louder with each passing second. Katie realized she was watching the last seconds of their shared world crumbling away.
"Please, Garrus," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "Please don't."
But he showed no sign of hearing her. His eyes were cold and focused, his breathing measured as he prepared to take the shot that would almost certainly lead to his death. Katie felt as if she were watching a nightmare unfold in slow motion, powerless to stop it.
In that moment, time seemed to stretch and warp around her. She saw flashes of the future— Garrus, gunned down by Alliance soldiers. Herself, dragged away screaming as his body lay on the ground. The thought of losing him, of watching him die because of her, was more than she could bear.
She closed her eyes, trying to steady her racing heart, when she felt it—a whisper of sensation she'd almost forgotten. Her breath caught. Little tingles and pulses that seemed like echoes—her biotics!—weak and unreliable, barely present. The decision crystallized in her mind, bringing with it a strange sense of calm. She knew what she had to do, even as the knowledge shattered her heart into a million pieces. Katie reached deep within herself.
Her fists clenched, nails digging into her palms hard enough to draw blood. The scent of copper in the air seemed to penetrate Garrus's battle focus, drawing his attention to her just in time to see it.
The world around her began to glow purple as she summoned every ounce of energy her body had spent days to recover. It felt like being torn apart from the inside, but she didn't stop. She couldn't stop. Not while he was in danger.
Garrus saw the change come over her, watched as her face contorted with effort and agony. He saw biotics flicker around her, saw it sputter and die as she strained against her own limitations. In that instant, he knew what she was trying to do, and a part of him couldn't believe it. There was no way she could...
He felt himself being lifted off his feet, propelled backwards by an invisible force. The last thing he saw before he fell was Katie's face, tears streaming down her cheeks as she used the last of her eezo to save him from himself.
When Garrus disappeared over the edge of the cliff, Katie felt something inside her break. She cried out, a sound of pure anguish that echoed across the landscape. The aftermath of her biotic exertion hit her like a tidal wave. The world spun around her as she collapsed to her knees. Every nerve ending screamed in protest, her muscles spasming uncontrollably. Her vision blurred, dark spots dancing at the edges of her consciousness. Blood trickled from her nose, and her head felt as if it might split open at any moment. She tasted copper in her mouth, realizing dimly that she had bitten her tongue.
Through the haze, she was barely aware of sounds—human sounds—growing closer. Hands touched her, voices called out questions she couldn't quite grasp.
"Is she one of the survivors...?"
"Hard to tell... what is she wearing?"
"Ma'am? Can you hear me?"
The words washed over her, meaningless in the face of what she had just done. Garrus... oh God, Garrus. Was he alive? Had she killed him? The thought sent a fresh wave of pain through her, worse than any physical agony.
"Are you alone?" someone asked.
Alone. The word echoed in her head, a cruel reminder of the choice she had made. Yes, she was alone now. More alone than she had ever been in her life.
She heard snatches of conversation around her, but it all seemed distant, unimportant. All that mattered was the aching void where Garrus had been just moments ago.
"You said there were two signal, Adams…"
"I know, sir. The second one is… gone…"
"What do you mean 'gone?'"
"Can't say for certain. Maybe a glitch."
"Search the perimeter. There maybe be others."
"Are you alright, ma'am…? Call it in… tell the medbay we found one in bad shape…"
"Check her ID…"
Someone touched her neck implant. Katie tried to pull away, but even that small movement sent spikes of pain through her body.
"It's alright, Ma'am. We won't harm you… You are safe…"
Safe? What does it even mean in this place?
"Oh shit... Corporal, have a look at this..."
"Contact the captain immediately... Tell him we found her."
Then darkness claimed her, and she knew no more.
The knock sent a shiver through her body. Katie rose from the bed, heart pounding in her chest. The cabin space was dimly lit, just as she preferred it—her eyes still hurt. She mustered up the strength to call out, "Come in."
The door to the quarters slid open, revealing Kaidan Alenko. He entered cautiously, noticing her tense demeanor and alert eyes. All completely understandable given her recent ordeal. He paused in the doorway, unsure if he should approach further.
Katie, recognizing the man who had come to her rescue, visibly relaxed and greeted him with a soft smile. "Captain," she said.
Alenko returned her greeting with a respectful nod. "Miss Shepard."
His voice was gentle, carefully modulated to avoid startling her. He took her in, noting she looked better, but the marks of her ordeal remained etched into her features. Dark circles shadowing her eyes, the bruise on her cheekbone that had faded to a sickly yellow-green. Her skin, usually glowing with life, now seemed pale and drawn, as if something vital had been drained away.
After almost two weeks of desperate searching, sleepless nights haunted by what might have happened to her, there she was, standing right in front of him—hurt, shattered even, but alive. The relief nearly brought him to his knees.
Kathreen...
Kaidan snapped out of his thoughts, realizing there had been an awkward silence. He cleared his throat and said, "I just wanted to see how you're feeling."
"I am better, thank you," Katie replied, her voice sincere but her eyes avoiding his gaze. She wrapped her arms around herself, as if trying to hold herself together. The simple act of speaking felt like a monumental effort, each word carefully chosen to avoid revealing the depths of her pain.
Alenko studied her closely, his trained eye noting every detail of her condition. She did look better, he thought to himself, but the improvement was relative. When they had brought her to the ship, she had been unconscious, with signs of dehydration and severe eezo depletion. The memory of her limp form in the arms of the rescue team was seared into his mind.
Initial examinations had revealed multiple signs of physical abuse, a concussion, and fractures. The clinical words in the medical report did little to convey what she had endured. Further examination had been rendered impossible as she had woken up, her eyes wild with fear and confusion. She had refused to let the medics near her, her behavior erratic, bordering on hysterical.
The reason for her extreme reaction was soon explained by the results of her blood test. What he saw terrified him. They found traces of multiple drugs—hallucinogens, psychedelics, sedatives, stimulants—a toxic cocktail that spoke volumes about what might have happened to her. The realization hit him like a physical blow: she had been captured by the local slavers. Drugged and tortured. And possibly... He couldn't bring himself to complete the thought.
Alenko's fists clenched unconsciously, knuckles white, as rage coursed through him. The thought of anyone hurting her, of subjecting her to such cruelty, made him want to tear apart the entire galaxy until he found those responsible. But he forced himself to remain calm, knowing that his anger would only add to Kathreen's distress.
"The medics told me you refused the thorough examination," he probed, voice gentle but tinged with worry. He wanted to help, to understand, but was careful not to push too far.
Her posture stiffened, spine straightening as if bracing for a blow. A dark shadow crossed her face, eyes clouding with memories she was desperately trying to suppress.
"I assure you I'll be fine," she said firmly.
Alenko's heart ached at her words. He knew all too well the façade of strength that victims often put up, the desperate need to appear 'fine' when they were anything but. Had they hurt her in ways he feared? He knew what slavers did to girls like her, the unspeakable acts that left their victims wishing for death. He couldn't bear the thought of it happening to her, of all people. The not knowing was killing him, eating away at his soul.
"Maybe a female doctor would be more suitable..." He let the words hang in the air, hoping she would understand his implied offer of support.
Her reaction was immediate and visceral. Her voice turned cold and dismissive, "I said I'll be fine."
The pain underneath her words was unmistakable, and Kaidan's heart sank.
"I didn't mean to..." He felt clumsy and out of his depth. How do you begin to navigate a trauma like hers?
"I know," Katie's tone softened, guilt creeping into her eyes as she looked at the man who had come to bring her home.
Alenko's expression was unreadable as always, but she could see the man's frustration simmering beneath the surface, the tension in his jaw and the tightness around his eyes betraying his inner turmoil. She knew he cared, knew he wanted to help, and her inability to open up to him was clearly causing him pain.
"They... hurt me," she said, words escaping before she could stop them. She couldn't look at him, her gaze fixed on a point somewhere beyond his shoulder. "They drugged me and... tortured me." The admission felt like ripping off a bandage, exposing a wound that was still raw and bleeding.
His scarred face twitch at her words, a flicker of rage passing through his eyes before he quickly suppressed it and nodded.
"I apologize, Miss Shepard," he said, his voice tight with restrained emotion.
Despite his relief upon recovering her alive, he couldn't help but wonder how she had managed to escape from the slavers. The condition she had been in when they'd found her made it seem highly unlikely that she could have survived the journey on her own. Kathreen had had a bag of supplies with her and worn a turian tunic, which further piqued his curiosity. Had she encountered turians during her escape? If so, why hadn't they captured her? Or had she been aided by another captive from the den?
So many questions swirled in his mind, each one leading to more uncertainties. But he knew it was not the right time to press her for answers. She was still raw and shaken, bombarding her with query would only cause more harm.
"Is there anything you need?" Kaidan asked her in a voice that was too gentle for his usually cold and reserved demeanor.
Her beautiful violet eyes met his icy grey, and for a moment, he felt as if he could see into her very soul. The pain, the fear, the confusion—it was all there, swirling in those mesmerizing depths. She hesitated, her lips parting slightly as if she wanted to say something but couldn't find the words. Then she shook her head.
He wanted to reach out to her, to offer some form of comfort, but he held back, afraid of overstepping boundaries that were now more fragile than ever.
Then she changed the subject, her voice taking on a slightly lighter tone as she asked, "I take it these are your quarters?"
"Yes," he admitted, feeling a bit embarrassed. The thought of her in his personal space, surrounded by his belongings, stirred something within him that he quickly pushed aside. "I hope everything is to your liking."
"You really didn't have to, captain—" she began, a hint of her old self shining through in her considerate response.
"It's the only one with hot water," he explained simply, trying to downplay his gesture.
Katie smiled and blushed, a soft pink coloring her cheeks. The sight of it made Alenko's heart skip a beat, a reminder of the young woman he knew was still there, beneath the layers of pain. "Oh, I see. In that case, I thank you," she said, genuine gratitude in her voice.
As the conversation came to a close, Kaidan knew it was time to go, yet felt reluctant to leave her.
Katie watched him with hesitation, her own feelings in disarray. She was filled with gratitude for the man who had saved her life, but there was also a complexity to her emotion that she couldn't quite unravel.
He hadn't changed since the last time she had seen him—the same perfect military posture, unreadable expression, and grey eyes that seemed to hold a hidden depth. The scar on his face had healed but was still visible, a permanent reminder of the terrifying battle he had fought through. It went from his left brow all the way across his cheekbone to his jaw. Two slashes left by turian claws, a mark that inspired awe in other Alliance soldiers. Everyone knew you never survived close combat with a turian. Not this man, though. He went through hell and back. He survived. The scaring didn't scare her; if anything, it made him seem more human, more vulnerable. Yet every time they talked, he turned his face just a little to the side, as if trying to conceal something that was far too obvious to hide.
Of course, he would be the one to come for her, Katie thought. She didn't expect anyone else. She knew he would leave no stone unturned, would never stop until he found her. And he did. He was bringing her home. So it was only natural he wondered what had happened. But how could she ever tell him? Or anyone else? They wouldn't understand. She didn't understand herself.
Alenko stood in the doorway looking at her, his eyes caring, words comforting, face so familiar. So human. This was all she had wanted ever since they had taken her to that dreadful dungeon. To see a human face. And here she finally was, in the presence of a man she always found comforting.
So why was it, that all she thought about was him? His blue avian eyes, his predator smile, the smug look on his alien face, and his gentle touch that made her blood boil... The memory of Garrus flooded her mind, bringing with it a confusing mix of emotions—fear, excitement, longing, and guilt. How could she reconcile these feelings with the safety and comfort the captain represented?
Alenko saw her suddenly blushing under his gaze and realized it was his cue to leave. He straightened his posture, falling back on military formality as a shield against the emotions threatening to overwhelm him. "We arrive at Eden Prime in three hours, Miss Shepard. Your father will be waiting for you there. In the meantime, get some rest."
With another curt nod, he left the cabin, making sure not to linger long enough for her to see all that was hidden in his eyes. As the door closed behind him, Kaidan took a moment to compose himself. The weight of everything he wanted to say, pressed down on him. But he pushed it aside, burying his feelings deep within. He had a duty to perform, a mission to complete. Personal emotions had no place in that equation.
The moment the captain stepped out, Katie let out a sigh of relief. What was wrong with her? The safety of the Alliance ship, the comfort of Alenko's presence, all that should have been enough to put her at ease. But her mind kept drifting back to Lindor, to the horrors she had endured—and to the unexpected salvation she had found.
"Oh, God... Garrus," she whispered.
She lay back on the bed, her mind racing with what was to come. The soft mattress felt foreign after all those nights of hard ground and cold cells. She knew she would have to face her father soon, and he would want to know what had happened. The thought filled her with dread.
Katie closed her eyes, trying to sort through her jumbled thoughts. She had time to figure out what she would say, time to construct a version of events that wouldn't shatter her father's world or her own.
Garrus stood tall on the command bridge, his eyes locked on the galaxy map as it displayed the location of Lindor. The red vibrating dot was mocking him, each flicker a painful reminder of what he had found there and what he had been forced to leave behind. His once unfinished business was now a bleeding wound that would never heal.
The feeling of unease that had been his constant companion since leaving for the planet's surface grew into a deep black hole. It gnawed at the edges of his consciousness, a void where purpose and certainty had once resided. Garrus felt adrift, torn between what he knew he should do and what his heart yearned for.
With a barely perceptible shake of his head, he tore his gaze away from the map and glanced at his omni-tool. Eyes scanned through the report one more time:
ALERT: Unidentified Alliance Vessel
CLASSIFICATION: Priority One Intelligence
Vessel departed Lindor's controlled space at 0200 hours local. Target successfully evaded THS Valiant's detection grid through employment of unregistered stealth systems. Vessel proceeded to Mass Relay 213, initiating relay jump at 0247 hours. Last known trajectory indicates exit from Hourglass Nebula. Current location and destination vectors remain unconfirmed. Pursuit capabilities exceeded.
/TRANSMITTED TO HIERARCHY COMMAND/
The clinical, detached language did nothing to quell the storm raging within him. He knew she had to be on that ship. He knew she had to be safe now. The relief that flooded through him at that thought was immediately chased by a wave of guilt and regret. How could he feel relief when his mission had failed, when his men were dead, when he had left behind the one person who had come to mean so much to him in such a short time?
The memory of falling down the cliff she had tossed him of was still fresh in his mind, as vivid and sharp as if it had happened mere moments ago.
The realization of what she had done hit him hard. Using her biotics in a depleted state could have killed her, but she didn't care. Stubborn human, he thought, a mixture of fondness and exasperation coloring the words in his mind.
Garrus could still feel the panic that had gripped him as he fell, the rush of air past his fringe, the sickening lurch in his stomach as gravity had taken hold...
His talons scraped against the rock, desperately trying to find something to hold onto. His claws drew sparks where they struck the metal-ridden stone, each impact sending jolts of pain up his arms.
She had slowed his freefall with her biotics, he was sure of it. It was the only explanation why he had survived.
Using all his strength, Garrus managed to grab onto a brow protruding from the cliff side. The sudden jolt almost dislocated his shoulder, the pain blinding in its intensity. But he pushed through, pulling himself into a smaller cavity within the stone wall. Above him, he could hear the distinct voices of the human search party, their scanners rendered useless by the metal-infused rock that shielded his signal.
As he huddled in that small space, his heart pounding and his body aching, a single thought dominated his mind: she saved his life once again. His tiny human, his Katie.
The descent was effortless compared to accepting what it meant—while the Alliance carried her to safety above, he climbed down into a world without her. No enemy fire or pursuit interrupted his path; they were all too busy with their rescued human to notice the lone turian slipping away and making his way to Quadrant Four.
Now, standing on the bridge of his ship, Garrus found himself drifting back to those last moments when he saw her. He remembered the strain on her face as she had pushed him off the cliff, knowing it was the only way to save him from the Alliance. It was a risky move, one that could have ended badly for both of them.
The Mass Relay 213 flickered on his omni-tool, a reminder of the ship that had slipped through his grasp. His fists clenched involuntarily, talons digging into his palms. The pain was a welcome distraction. Frustration warred with relief within him—not being able to pursue the vessel, as would have been the Hierarchy's instructions, conflicted with the knowing that Katie was with her people, far from the dangers of Lindor.
The human starship had likely headed for Alliance space. Perhaps to that world she had told him about, with skies as blue as his eyes. Her home. A place where he wanted her to be, away from the war and the complicated feelings that threatened to consume him.
Garrus closed the report with a sharp flick of his talon and turned his gaze back to the stars. He knew that he had made the right choice in letting her go, but that didn't make the pain any easier to bear. With a heavy heart, he steeled himself for what was to come. His return home.
He run a hand through his fringe. The familiar sensation grounded him, reminding him of who he was and what was expected of him. He was a decorated officer of the Turian Hierarchy. He had a duty to perform, a mission to report, consequences to face. Personal feelings had no place in this equation.
Katie…
"Captain?" Corporal Tactus's voice cut through his thoughts, bringing him crashing back to reality. "We are ready for the jump, sir."
Garrus turned to look at the younger officer. Something in his eyes must have betrayed him, for the corporal's right mandible twitched slightly with a sign of unease.
The expression on his superior's face bothered the yellow-marked turian. He couldn't quite put his talon on what it was, but something in those blue eyes was amiss. There was a depth of emotion there that Tactus had never seen before, a complexity that went beyond the usual stoic demeanor of his captain.
Vakarian wasn't the same since he had been recovered on Lindor. He had assumed command of the vessel as soon as he got on board, brushing aside all concerns for his wellbeing in a way that bordered on rudeness. He had refused all assistance despite the medic's recommendations, instead heading straight to the bridge with a single-minded determination that had both impressed and worried his crew.
The captain had demanded recent scans of the surface, then gone through them all personally, his eyes scanning diligently. He had been looking for something, and being the good officer that he was, he had, of course, found it—a heat signature of what seemed to be a human vessel.
Tactus understood how the mission's failure must have weighed on Vakarian's conscience. The slaughter of the captain's squad by slavers was enough to ignite fury in the young corporal's own heart. Yet something else colored Vakarian's subvocals—his vibrations carried not just anguish but also an inexplicable hint of relief, a contradiction that left the yellow-marked turian bewildered.
From his station, Tactus observed his commanding officer. Vakarian's mandibles were clenched tight, his eyes burning with an intensity both terrifying and awe-inspiring. It was clear he was dealing with a storm of emotions, but he kept them tightly bottled up, lest they interfere with his duties.
Now Tactus stood on the bridge beside his captain, awaiting the order to jump to turian space. Report back to the Hierarchy empty-handed. Mission unsuccessful.
Vakarian nodded, his eyes cold and distant. "Do it," he said in a stern and detached voice.
The corporal relaxed his mandibles at the sound of that icy tone. The terseness of the command reassured him—clearly the captain was recovering from his ordeal, returning to proper military form.
Looking up at his superior, the younger officer felt a surge of admiration. Garrus Vakarian had proven time and time again that he was capable of achieving the impossible. His record spoke for itself—countless successful missions, commendations from the highest levels of the Hierarchy, a reputation that preceded him wherever he went. Spirits, he'd even survived Shanxi. The corporal wondered if he would ever ascend the ranks with such honor and dignity, ever command such respect or maintain such poise in the face of failure.
Tactus snapped a sharp salute before turning to prepare for the jump, eager to leave this spirits-forsaken place. This whole detour was an unfortunate distraction from truly important things. They had a war to fight, after all.
As the crew bustled around him, making final preparations for the mass relay, Garrus stood still at the center of it all, a pillar of calm in the midst of controlled chaos. But beneath that exterior, a tempest raged.
He thought of his father, of the expectations that had been placed on him. The weight of the Vakarian name felt heavier than ever on his shoulders. What would Castis say when he learned of this mission's failure? How would he react to know that his son returned empty-handed?
Then there was the Hierarchy to consider. Garrus knew his actions would be scrutinized, every decision questioned. He would have to account for the loss of his team, for the failure to secure the objective.
But overshadowing all of these concerns was the memory of her. He had never expected to find such a connection with a human, of all species. She had challenged everything he thought he knew, made him question beliefs he had held ever since the First Contact had broken out.
The frigate shuddered when it accelerated towards the Mass Relay 213, the familiar vibrations running through the deck floor and up through Garrus's feet. As he watched the stars blur and twist around them, the view outside becoming a dizzying swirl of light and color, Garrus felt a sense of finality settling over him. This jump would take them far from Lindor, far from Katie. It felt like closing a chapter, one that had been brief but intensely meaningful. He silently hoped that wherever she was, whatever she was doing, she was safe.
The energy of the relay enveloped their ship, catapulting them across vast distances in the blink of an eye. For a moment, everything seemed to stretch and compress simultaneously, a sensation that never failed to unsettle him no matter how many times he experienced it.
When it ended, they were in a different system. The stars had changed, the patterns not the same but just as indifferent. Garrus felt a hollowness in his chest, as if he had left a part of himself behind on that rat-infested planet.
As the crew began to settle into their post-jump routines, he allowed himself one moment of weakness. He closed his eyes, picturing her face one last time—her smile, her laughter, the fire in her eyes when she was determined or angry. He felt the softness of her skin under his fingers, the warmth of her body against his. The trust she had placed in him, and the way she had looked at him not as an enemy, but as... Then, with a deep breath, he pushed the image aside, locking it away in a corner of his heart where it could not interfere with his duties.
There would be time for personal reflections later, in the privacy of his quarters. For now, he had a ship to command, a report to prepare, and a war to fight.
Opening his eyes, Garrus straightened his posture and began issuing orders. His voice was clear and commanding, betraying none of the turmoil within. To all outward appearances, he was every inch the decorated officer, the good turian.
But deep inside, in a place he dared not acknowledge, a small part of him wondered if he would ever truly be the same again.
END OF PART I