The allowances presented to him, after almost two months of waiting, had been both an insult and more than he had been hoping for.

Garrus had been back on Palaven for seven weeks, three days, ten hours and fifty-four minutes – he'd forgive the seconds. Not the rest . This decision from the Primarch and the Convocation had taken entirely too long. He could not understand, with the evidence he had brought with him and his own eyewitness accounts, that this was all they had to offer. How were these numbers what they had figured?

He should be grateful. Even these small numbers were better than his claims being completely discredited or ignored. He really should just be thankful, he mused. Shepard had been turned into a laughingstock. He had simply been quelled. He reread the amount of money they were directing towards him.

Garrus frowned at the amount.

He would have to use his own resources. Not just his own, but the Vakarian vaults. He would need to use the Vakarian name.

He flipped through more pages and raised a brow plate at the squadron assigned to him. No, not him, to the "Hierarchy's Reaper Task Force" though he was the Reaper Expert listed to lead it.

It's true leader's name stared back at Garrus in a haunting reminder of the past.

Commander, no General Adrien Victus.

He had slowly begun to understand his triggers in those long months working side by side with Shepard and the Normandy crew. He had gotten rather good at distracting himself with calibrations or, if he were lucky, conversations with others. He had more than once sought out the company of some of the crew to get himself lost in witty banter, meaningless pleasantries or even cajoling conversations that would settle the turmoil inside.

The more he tried to stay grounded now though, the more control he lost.

Adrien Victus.

The name was like a dull bell inside his head - Ding. Ding. Ding - as if it were calling forth what had happened and ignoring all his attempts to self-stem. Mocking his resolve. It was as if he were holding onto the rope of present, tight and bruising, terrified to let his grip slip. The harder he held on, however, the more pain that would shoot through his entire body. From the deepest parts of his mind outward to every nerve ending on his body. A slight memory of Alchera bounced along, misplaced, as he felt himself slip backward.

He felt good. Really good. Another mission he had been put on for his specialty. Garrus was sure that this would bring honor to his name. After his last four assignments, Garrus was truly making good of the reputation that his last name carried. With any luck, he would replace the last who owned the name in these ranks and replace it with his face. That was how it worked when you were the last in line of one of the founders. Everyone knew and remembered Castis. They remembered his determination and his power. The quiet kind of power that seemed underweight. He had always survived, but more importantly, he had kept all of his brothers and sisters safe AND had never failed a mission. Not once. He had refused to lead, however, always preferring to be second in command and able to be a part of the ground team. Garrus wanted to lead. He felt it in his plates. It's where he belonged. So, when Victus has asked him to lead this particular scouting detail, how could he refuse? He was front man. Just two others would be going with him, Alic Adonitis and Trana Cylik. Alic had been inducted the same year that he had. They were the same age and class. Trana, however, was a veteran. She was on her nineteenth year of servitude, "a lifer" she called herself and was an expert in espionage and hacking. A techy. A vital member of a crew that was meant to stay out of sight. They had been on the planet for two days now. Adonitis was annoying. It was something that Commander Victus had warned him about before they had been deployed out. To keep the youngling in line. He was being tested. Could he be trusted for the Elite Class, or would he stay as a Grunt? For all Garrus could see, no. The kid was not ready. Hell, he hoped he did not come across the way that he did. He hoped that he was not as fidgety. He rolled his eyes. For the last six hours, Adonitis had only been complaining of boredom. Cylik had wisely shut him up with a simple and well placed, "Boredom is what we are hoping for." The truth in those words was not lost to Garrus. They had to find the Blue Sun's base on this heated planet and find the communications tower to plant a transponder. They had two days left before they were scheduled to get extracted. If they succeeded. Turians only were extracted with death or victory. Luckily, they had found the base the night they had landed. He had decided to give them the first forty-eight hours to observe. To get the barest notion of routine that the enemy could give. Thats what led them to this moment. He would send Cylik in first. "You need to get in and open that door," he nodded after she had explained that there was an underground loading dock that was left scarcely protected in between deliveries. "How far apart are the trucks?" Cylik's green eyes bounced back and forth as she decided, "It's about every three hours. I can't be certain, as there's only been so many since we have been posted here. Thats the best guess I have with what we have witnessed." He nodded, looking back towards the building, "Adonitis said the West side is guarded heavy, from what I have seen there is only blank walls both north and south, this is the only entrance." "It seems a bit easy," she would say, leaning in towards him as if she didn't want the third person in their party to hear her concern, "An unguarded docking bay?" "I know," he nodded and looked over his shoulder at her, "We can just start shooting it up? Take them out eagle eye style?" "Eagle-eye?" She blinked. He smirked, "It's what the humans say when they are talking about snipers. I... I don't really know what an eagle is." She snorted, "It's probably an insult." "Nah," he shook his head, "We both know that they actually are pretty good with their weapons. We got the M- 32 from them, modded it up enough, but it's a damn fine piece of machine." She nodded, looking back to the building, "Still don't think that Victus would like if we went that route." "What route?" Adonitis questioned, looking at them as if he had just decided to start listening to what they were saying. "Trying to figure out if we should send her in or just shoot up the place..." He smiled wide, mandibles slack, "I brought the sticking grenades..." "No," Garrus laughed lightly, "It's supposed to be a stealth mission, it's a bit counter-productive if we set up a transponder here if we kill all the people who would be using this base to ...transpond..." Cylik nearly snickered, "True." "Boo," Adonitis said and deflated, tucking a grenade securely back into his armored pocket. "I don't think I like being sneaky." "Trust me," Garrus would say to him, "You are anything but sneaky." "A right elcor, you are," Cylik agreed on a breathy chuckle. "Yeah?" he mock glared at her, "Big enough for you to ride then..." "Oh, come on," Garrus groaned, "Thats just...I mean...she's tiny...an elcor would just..." "And that would be the end of that conversation and comparison," Cylik sneered, both of them having the good sense to drop it entirely and dip their heads a bit in shame, though honestly, Garrus knew Cylik didn't give two shits about them joking about it. It was well known through the crew that Adonitis and Cylik were each other's stress relief. And she really was tiny for a Turian. When she went quiet, the woman damn near disappeared from existence. Garrus took in her physique for a second, "I think you could just walk right in," he pointed at her, "No one would be the wiser." "I know I could," she would say cockily, "Easy - I've done it a thousand times before." "Looks like we have our plan then," Garrus would say and the both of them nodded at him. That had been his first mistake. Separation. When her tracking beacon had gone offline Adonitis had glared over his omni-tool when Garrus had said to ignore it. "We can't leave her in there, Garrus," the turian had snarled. Teeth sharp and baring, "She's one of us!" "She knows the mission," he had argued, "We install the transponder and then get to the extraction point. Victus will not leave her behind. We will be able to get a bigger ground unit here to get in there and get her. Our mission is set." "No," Adonitis snapped, "We can do both, you can set the device, while I scope out the place." "No, it's too risky." "You cannot be serious!?" "Do I sound like I am joking?" "But she is one of us," he repeated, turning his glare from Garrus to the building, "We have to go in there for her." "If we can find her along the way to the communications room, then of course, if not -" Garrus trailed off. Adonitis shook his head, "Of course you wouldn't care. You don't care about anything or anyone but yourself!" "What?" Garrus' head snapped towards him so sharply he felt a crack. "We all know that you just want to be the best. You may joke with us, but you aren't one of us. You're a Vakarian, Vakarian. It's easy..." "I suggest you think carefully about what you are about to say next," Garrus growled, "My name has nothing to do with my abilities." "Doesn't it?" Garrus frowned at the question. "It's not me who is leading this, now is it?" Adonitis snarled, "If it were, we would already be in there rescuing her." "For fucks sake, Adon," he used his nickname in sheer desperation. He didn't understand the heat coming from him. "Think, think just this once. Why are we here?" "I don't care why we are - " "Why are we here?" Garrus asked again, reaching out to grab the man's shoulders, turning him to face away from the building and look directly at him, "What is our mission." Adonitis' hard gaze settled in on his, "To intercept the enemy's communications." "Why?" "Because this is the middle ground that's been supplying the enemy." "What enemy?" "The Batarians." "And..." "The Salarians." "Do you know what would happen if the Salarians aren't kept in check?" He didn't mention the Batarians, because they fought more amongst themselves than others. They were more slime than grit. Terrorists than armies. "We lose the upper hand." He pointed to the building, "She knows that. She's been in this life longer than both of us. She knows what she is doing. She knows what's at stake. The mission." He keened suddenly and Garrus was taken aback, "She's...she..." "You...why didn't you tell us?" His shocked question lacking any heat. Adonitis shook his head, "Cylik didn't want anyone to know." "How..." Garrus looked towards the building, the sound of his teammates subvocals loud next to him. Tainting the air in concern, terror, mourning, hope, love. "Damnit, you idiot." "I know," Adonitis would say then, soft and quiet. "We have to go get her." Not thirty minutes after they had argued, the two turians had decided to wait until dark to get in through the same entrance she had gone in. The truth was, he felt like this was a trap. It certainly did not feel right. But the mission could not be abandoned, and he chanced a glance to look at Adonitis who was sitting about fifty yards away, a mate was in danger. Turians held two things in highest regard: the mission and the mates. It was rare to find a mate. A true mate came from the spirits. Most Turians only ever settled for compatibility. He marveled at the fact that Cylik and Adonitis had found matehood together. Garrus shook his head, it wasn't uncommon, the age gaps in such a thing. The two were just completely different. His thoughts were interrupted as the sounds of shouting filled the air. "Over there!" A slick voice slithered into the trees. "Aha!" Another voice barked, "We got ourselves a big bird!" Garrus slid down into the undergrowth and looked towards the two beings that had surrounded Adonitis. One looked like a batarian, the other a human. The Blue Suns were not known to work with too many of the different species. It was very rare to see three fingered talons in the mix. "Stand up!" One of them demanded. Garrus pulled his gun from his shoulder, slowly shifting to stand behind a tree, leaning against it to lay his gun flat up against the side of the trunk to provide stability as he stayed in cover. If he could get the one with the fun, he was sure Adonitis could fight the other one to submission. The turian was one of the best hand to hand. Not as good as Garrus, but he was one of the few that nearly got him. He smirked at the thought as he looked down the scope, taking aim. "We have your little bitch," the batarian sneered, bringing the butt of his rifle down and slamming it into the side of Adonitis' helmet. It clanked loud as he continued, "She's all tied up and split open." He could hear the answering subvocals flare to life, both of the Blue Suns unable to hear the roar of them. "Come on, let's just shoot him," the human said. "It's getting dark – I hate this place at night." "Nah, I want to take him in – let him watch what they are doing to her body." "You have a sick mind, my friend," the human would laugh as he too hit the turian with his gun. This time the hit was so hard it knocked his helmet clean off. "OH!" The human laughed, "He's one of those pretty red ones!" "Pretty red..." the Batarian sneered, "Just get him up," he ordered, leaning towards Adonitis, "Want to see what we did to her body?" He stepped back as Adonitis stood up as prompted, "Easy to make her look like a proper broad, just took her head right off." "What?" Adonitis asked. "Oh yeah," the human jeered, "Easy as twisting the neck of a chicken." "A chicken?" The Batarian barked a laugh, "You humans are odd things," he looked towards Adonitis and watched as the turian turned to look to his left. A strained expression on his features. "What you lookin' at?" But Adonitis didn't hear the Batarian, he just looked straight into Garrus' eyes, knowing exactly where Garrus would have chosen to set up his rifle. Garrus' breath hitched as he quickly shifted his aim back to the two enemies. Both looked dead at him. The Batarian smiled sickeningly as he snapped, "There you are," he growled, just as another ten people stepped out of the trees from all around them. Garrus feeling the sharp jab of a pistol in his back. "Thanks for that, birdy," the human cackled. Fuck this. Garrus thought. If he was going to die – he'd take one of these assholes out first. He didn't even refocus, he just squeezed the trigger and watched as his bullet whizzed through the air and slid right between the four eyes of the batarian. He had just enough time to re straighten his position before he heard the loud crack of a gun behind him and felt the scorching heat cut into his side. He was pretty sure he heard Adonitis screaming his name as he went down, "VAK -!

" -arian!"

Garrus crashed back to the present with a gasp. His eyes snapping up from the data pad towards the doorway. His head spun at the image in front of him and he trilled, uncertain and confused. His body tensed defensively as he staggered a foot backward. "Commander," Garrus fucking whimpered, embarrassingly.

"Mm," came the smokey sound of his voice. "General, now, Vakarian."

He forced himself to look away from him, "Too right," he cleared his throat, "General Victus," he corrected, "It's been a long time."

"Not so long," the man would say as he stepped further into the room. "I received the assignment last night, figured I would come and talk to you directly."

Garrus' head tilted ever slight to the right, "Speak freely."

The General gave a withering glare, "I will not say I am pleased to be dragged off of the patrols of E-sector to come and babysit a side project." Garrus's mandibles pressed against the side of his cheeks as he felt himself wanting to interrupt, out of respect he pressed his tongue against one of his sharp teeth. "However," the General sighed, "I have heard rumors."

"Have you?"

"I have my own information network, Vakarian."

He gave a stiff nod. "What are the rumors you have heard?"

"That you have been fighting off some big bad."

"Interesting, where have you heard that particular rumor?" Garrus questioned.

"Your human counterparts," he stepped further into the room, his hands clasped behind his back as he slowly made his way towards Garrus. "I also remember the speeches that were given to the Citadel Council, the sacrificing of the human fleet, the story of you being on the Normandy..."

He sighed, "The Attack on the Citadel was not the Geth."

"No, no I do not believe it was," the General stopped in front of him. "I was told there would be your first-hand accounts? From when you prevented the invasions?

"Shepard," he corrected. "It was the Commander that's been leading."

"Show me." He commanded Garrus, sitting down in a vacant chair as he looked pointed at the visor resting on his face.

Victus had sat through about three hours of footage, he had gone through mission reports, he had seen snapshotted images from Eden Prime, from the Citadel, from Virmire, from beyond the Omega-4 and he had read the testimonies from every crew member of the Alliance, of Cerberus and the rag-tag crew that had been a part of the last nearly four years of his life.

He paused the footage.

Garrus looked over to him, raising a brow plate. Victus had yet to ask a single question. He had made no comments. Hell, he had been so silent that it had nearly made Garrus uncomfortable. The only thing keeping him from feeling it was – well – he was reliving it all once again.

Each time he watched; he would see something new. More details to look into. He would notice words he had not comprehended before. Living things and revisiting them were always different. "Hindsight is 20/20," Okuda had said to him when they had watched Monteague's body disappear after Garrus had confessed to wasting so much time.

He had always been able to keep video, his visor had always been something he utilized, but he was ashamed to admit that he had not recorded everything he should have. He had found some things irrelevant. That changed the moment they were working for Cerberus. He had recorded everything. From missions to interactions with the crew, to his work on the main guns. Everything .

Garrus had deleted nothing.

Victus ran a hand down his face and leaned his elbows on his knees. Such a relaxed position that Garrus chirped at him. Garrus was younger than the turian, truth was – he still felt as if he was his commander, even though the title was now General. It both comforted him to and pained him to think of him like this. Victus had meant more to him once. Adrien still did.

"Spirits," Victus breathed and then shook his head, "I see it, but my brain wants to deny everything."

Garrus' chuckle nearly morphed into a bitter laugh, "That seems to be the consensus."

Victus stood, "How long?"

"I don't know."

"They are out there."

"Yes."

"How many?"

"I don't know."

"But just one nearly took down the Citadel?"

"Yes."

Victus cursed, his subvocals alive with fear, worry, disbelief and, oddly enough, excitement. "And this is all that the Primarch has given you?" He reached onto the desk and picked up the data pad.

"I'm working on that, different angles," said Garrus, "I have already reached out to one of my men on Omega," his face pinched, mandibles clacking, "Not really my man – he belongs to T'Loak."

"The Queen herself is willing to help?"

"She sees it beneficial, considering that we survived the relay. Honestly," he looked to him with a smirk, "I think she had a thing for Shepard."

"So do you," Victus remarked.

Garrus did not immediately answer him. It was no one's business on what he felt for Shepard. That was not what this meeting was about. None of this was about his personal feelings. He was here to convince his brood that they were in danger of an invasion. It was not a 'what if' it was definite. It was happening. It was already happening. He also didn't know if he had the right strength at this moment to have that conversation with this particular Turian. He needed to keep it separate.

"Shepard is leading this," he decided, "We are close."

"Commander Shepard has always been someone to be wise to, or so I have been told. Common sense states that anyone who can come back from the dead should be someone we watch out for." Victus eyed him, "She is one of the human's biggest assets and yet..."

He growled, "Do not get me started on how they are treating her."

"Hm," Victus pondered, "How long did it take you to get ahold of Omega?"

"It takes about six hours to get correspondence to and from, why?"

"Omega is just as far from us as the Mactare system...there is a lot of space in between them and they surround us strategically," he shook his head, "Six hours is a wide timeline. It's too much of an advantage. We need to up our communications. We need to get scouts out, that needs to be the first thing we focus on."

"Do you mean you aren't going to argue with this," Garrus was almost in disbelief.

"Why would I be?" The General looked at him, dead in the eyes. "You have presented evidence of a threat. I may not be conventional, Vakarian, but I am a soldier. These Reapers," he frowned, "They threaten all of us. It is my duty to rise to that threat."

He wanted to weep.

The sudden feeling crashed into him and his subvocals vibrated against the feeling. He had been fighting for years alongside Shepard for just one person to accept the truth when it was presented to them. Even Kaidan, who had seen the threat with his own eyes, had been manipulated to forget.

It had always been a fight.

And here Victus was taking him at his word. He was -

Garrus sat down and Victus took a step to him, but seemed to think better of invading his space, instead he clasped his hands behind his back, his subvocals sending out calming nodes, assurance, apologies – "I know it's been a long time, Vakarian, but you have my acceptance of this. My squadron will be yours to command."

"Thank you," he would finally manage, his eyes lifting to the older turian, "I agree with you about the scouts, but they have to be discreet. They cannot be considered a threat. One, two-man crews in non-military vessels."

That was good...Garrus decided. Distracting himself with plans and work has always been something that helped when he felt himself slipping. He took a deep breath in, "I'll send word to Omega about weapons and tech."

"We need to get a station up on Menae."

"The moon?" Garrus blinked, "Yes, that's..." he stood up, "We need more than just a station. We need it to be another front. One that is kept in the dark."

"Mm," Victus agreed to that, but with an annoyed grunt he bit out, "This entire Task Force is a farce, surely you know this?"

"I know," he frowned, "but it is something and it will have to do, Adrien."

The other Turian paused at the use of his given name and the carefully composed exterior of him seemed to faulter as he reached out his hand, it lingered in the air between them, but he did not miss the slight tensing of Garrus' shoulders. The way that he seemed to cower away so slightly it could have been missed.

"Still blame me then?"

Garrus growled low, "No."

Victus finished reaching for Garrus and laid his hand on his upper arm, "I would never have left you; I would never have sent you..."

"Spare me," Garrus would interrupt, "We both know that duty and mission goes above all."

Victus shook his head, "You left me though."

Garrus almost wanted to laugh at that. The emotions at play in the man's words. As if he had been hurt. As if it had been he who had been chained, drugged...he closed his eyes and shook his head, "I went to the Citadel, Adrien."

"Yes, that is what I said, you left me."

"You had Saira to go home to, did you not?" Garrus asked pointedly.

Victus' hand left Garrus and dropped to his side, "Garrus..."

"It was a long time ago ," he would say again, trying to alleviate the heaviness that sat in the room. It was too close to the feeling he would get before an episode. Though his trigger had sought him out this time. It had come to stand before him. It had brought him back from spiraling and was causing his insides to churn.

"Saira is dead."

Garrus nodded, "I had heard, I was sorry to hear of your loss. Sorry for you and Tarquin."

"It's been," Victus stopped short and looked at Garrus for a long moment before he swallowed and shook his head, "Life moves forward."

"Yes."

"So..."

"The Reapers."

"Yes, the Reapers," Victus took a step back and Garrus had to struggle to not take a deep, overly exaggerated breath. "Is there anything you know specifically that will help us with this. Commander Shepard thwarted off an invasion twice now?"

"Yes," Garrus moved to sit in one of the high back chairs, the dark brown color muted and the leather is soft after years of being used. "We won't be lucky a third time. She is being held as a prisoner back on Earth."

"Earthlings," Garrus could almost hear the disdain in Victus' words. "...so young, so..."

"Dumb."

They looked at one another for a long moment before a smirk etched itself onto Garrus' lips. "She sent her crew out to try to get our home worlds prepared. So far, from what I have heard, it's just the Krogans and this small Task Force that are working to try and find a way to get ready."

"The Krogans?"

Garrus nodded, "Lead by Urdnot Wrex who has sworn to Shepard that he would do what he could to prepare Tuchanka."

"A Krogan is working in this and yet our own Brood insults us with a low salary for two years and no leeway. There is not even enough funding to feed my squadron for six months." Victus shook his head.

"No, but no worries there."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," Garrus stood straighter as he moved closer to the door, "I mean that the Vakarian name needs to come out of hiding." He left Victus in the main room, glad to be rid of his presence. He was not ready to address that. He had no time to devote himself to figuring out whether he was even ready to try .

Shepard had told him once that he would never truly forgive himself, unless he allowed himself to see he had survived what had happened on that mission. In that advice, whispered to him was the two had laid naked together inside her captain's quarters, Garrus found absolutely nothing. He didn't even know if he wanted to know what happened.

He was rather fond of just ignoring it.

Though he had not thought he would ever be working with Victus again.

He frowned as he moved through the hallways. Just how was it that Victus had found out he was going to be assigned to the Task Force before Garrus. Garrus wasn't entirely lost to the very high probability that this had Castis Vakarian all over it.

He looked over his shoulder to see Victus walking in the opposite direction in the hallway and frowned even deeper. They had been friends once. Perhaps he owed him the story and the forgiveness. When he turned his attention back forward, Garrus glared at the ground as he walked. He knew that Victus had not been the reason anything happened. He didn't blame him for that. He blamed him for what had happened afterward.

And he always would.

Garrus moved through the halls to his father's study, his hand rapping on the door twice, when he heard the permission to enter, he did so. Sol was already in there, leaning against the bookshelf on the right, book in hand, her gaze lifted to rest on his before she closed the book and stood at attention. He frowned at that, confused before looking to Castis, "Dad, did you," he held up the data pad.

The elder Vakarian nodded, "I did," he motioned for him to sit. "Your sister and I have decided to help with the supplemental costs that will arise with this."

"Truly?" He asked, both his good and cybernetic mandible slack at the words. He looked towards Solana. "You will help?"

Though Castis had the last say in what happened to the Vakarian estate, both Garrus and Solana were of age to have weight in the decision. One veto would have the entire affair moved through the courts. A tedious notion that Garrus had feared would be needed. They did not have the time for an internal struggle.

If he were to go by how Solana had acted when he had first arrived, his sister was not on board. She had been cold, angry and dismissive. He had tried to seek her out in the first few days with the hopes to talk sense into her. Sol had told him quite forcefully to leave her alone.

Of course, Garrus couldn't bring himself to leave her alone. He had followed her around the house multiple times, spewing story after story. Trying to help her see the truth behind his words. Trying to get her to listen.

Hell, at this point – he didn't care if she was mad at him or hated Shepard or was disgusted by his very presence back on Palaven, as long as she believed him.

It was Sol, after all.

They had always been close. Not in the typical way that family were, no, in the deeper way that friends were. They chose to make sure they knew each other. They didn't allow love to be decided for them because they shared the same parents. They chose it. Day in and day out. They had always had this type of relationship. His mother used to say that they were twins born years apart.

Turian twins were rare, she had told them both.

It had been a shock to Garrus, later, when he came upon other species at how different the Turian's birth was. Humans, for instance, were known to have multiple births quite commonly. Karin had told him it was because they were something called "mammals" and their bodies were capable of feeding their offspring for years, as long as there was a need for it.

That was not how Turians worked. The Turian women fed the fledglings for eighteen weeks, by the end of that, if the youngling wasn't able to eat the mashed meats, they would not be able to sustain with just the secretions alone.

They would starve.

Just as he had almost...

"I will," Sol told him, "I..." she sighed, "I was scared, Garrus," his sister's body relaxed as she walked to him, sitting down in the vacant share beside him, "You are all I have, you and Dad," his sister looked to their father and then to him, "And what you are claiming is astronomically hard to wrap one's head around, but I am not an idiot. You are not one either nor are you a liar. We both know why you left Palaven," Garrus stiffened, and she reached out to grab his hand, "You have always been an honest Turian. You have always had your own code and you have always done what you believed to be right. That is why Dad pushed for Victus to be who was assigned to you."

He looked to Castis, "He is not happy about that."

"I cannot imagine he would be," Castis replied, "However, we need someone willing to see past the fear of what you are suggesting. We need someone who can come up with a plan. We need Victus because, though the man's choices can be questionable, he has a mind that is unmatched for these kinds of situations."

Garrus nodded, "When did you decide this?" He looked to Solana, "To help fund this?"

"Pretty much the moment we both witnessed your data," her eyes fluttered to his visor and when they turned back to him there was a softness in them that he had never seen before.

"Why didn't you speak to me?"

Solana frowned, "The decision was easy, but it is still hard for me to completely trust this, Garrus. I... I needed time to understand. Your devotion to your human shocked me. I was also embarrassed, ashamed? I am not a xenophobe, I have connections, friends, contacts, mentors and patients all over the galaxy. I even have Bailey..." her eyes cut towards Castis before she swallowed and continued, "I never realized it was possible – I needed to process it."

He glared, "Cold shoulders seem a bit unnecessary..."

"I... forgive me for what I said about her. I never would have said anything like that had I known."

"Known?"

Both looked at him, Castis' head tilting just slightly, "She is your mate."

"And you have already lost so much," Sol's hand squeezed his tightly, "My words were wrong, my reaction was undeserving, and I apologize."

Garrus shrugged, "Its fine."

Castis cleared his throat, "It was decided that the Vakarian Vault will need to be accessible. No matter what the Convocation would come to decide. With the proof of the Reapers, with that invasion imminent, nothing they offer will be enough."

"No," he agreed, "Dad, nothing will be – honestly, how are we going to even start this?"

Castis grinned, "You already know what we do."

"Prepare for battle."

"For war," Sol corrected. "Perhaps it's the last one we ever fight."

"But if that is the case," Castis stood, coming around the desk to lay his hand on Garrus' shoulder, "We fight to the last bullet..."

"And then we use our teeth," Sol and Garrus finished in unison.

He looked to Solana first, then to his father, and he found himself...hopeful. A little less alone. A little more certain. He wished he could reach Shepard. He wished he could send her word that he was trying. That he wasn't giving up and that he hoped she didn't either. That he had taken her instructions, no – her pleas – and he had jumped headfirst into trying.

Trying.

That's all this was – he knew – an attempt.

Probably a futile one, but he knew that he would keep trying until he had nothing left.

He had promised her that.