Make it back alive

by BioWeird

Summary:

Twelve years ago, Commander Shepard disappeared during the reaper invasion. She entered the Crucible and decided the fate of the entire galaxy–by sacrificing herself. She killed the reapers, heretic geth, and disabled half the Mass Effect relays on her way out.

Twelve years ago, Garrus Vakarian told her to come back alive. Now, after retiring early back on Palaven, the galaxy continues to feel emptier and emptier without her. With a glass of turian Horosk in one hand and Black Widow in the other, he's blurring the lines between reality and wishful thinking. That is, until Liara, Kaidan, and Tali show up at his front door with a lead on Shepard.

Wishful thinking or not, he'll fight through hell to save her, or he'll meet her at the bar in heaven trying.

Chapter 1: One more second

“Garrus,” Shepard’s voice crackled over the comms, “we’ve got a heavy mech inbound. Slap it with an overload the moment it lands, Wrex and I will take care of the rest.”

Garrus Vakarian stared down the scope of his Black Widow sniper rifle. He squeezed the trigger and a Cerberus centurion’s head exploded in a mist of blood and brain. He leaned back and scanned the battlefield from his perch–a Cerberus ‘research’ facility on Sanctum.

Of course, research really meant experimentation and committing horrific atrocities in the name of scientific advancement. It also meant Shepard, Wrex, and Garrus got to clear out a few more interstellar scumbags who thought they were above the law.

But no one was above Shepard, and nothing was beyond Black Widow’s reach.

Garrus picked off a few more stragglers before he set his sights on the incoming dropships. If he activated his armour-piercing rounds, he could probably crack open one of the hulls, watch the ship crash and vaporize all the goons inside.

But he was already running low on ammo. He’d have to save his shots for the things Shepard and Wrex couldn’t headbutt or blast their way through.

The dropships reeled to a stop over the docking bay. The doors slid open and they delivered their payloads. One heavy mech, and a dozen or so more troopers. Garrus targeted the hulking mech with his omni-tool. It landed, sending a quake through the landing pad. He sapped its shields with an overload. Blue sparks flashed around its chassis, temporarily paralyzing it.

Shepard laid into it. He could see her and Wrex firing across the bay while more Cerberus troopers and centurions bared down on them. He raised Black Widow back up, clipped a few more rounds into their skulls, and hit the mech with another overload. Each bullet gave Shep and Wrex one more second to breathe, one more second to fight, one more second to live.

The scene paused for a moment. Stuttered with static. Garrus gazed at Shepard through his scope. His hands shook.

He would give everything to have one more second with her.

The world started moving again, and the battlefield exploded back to life. Shepard dropped her rifle and switched over to her submachine gun. She crouched behind a crate and looked over at Wrex. They exchanged a nod… and a grin.

This was the fun part.

They leapt from cover and Wrex belted out his battle cry. “Damn pyjaks!” he roared and shoved his shotgun into a trooper’s face. While he painted the walls with the blood of his enemies, Shepard pushed forward, deftly making her way closer to the mech.

“Feeling brave today, are we?” Garrus asked.

“Can’t get a clear shot, gotta get closer,” she answered. “Plus, Wrex wanted to have his way with them.”

“I don’t blame you for getting out of his way,” Garrus mused. He tracked her with his sniper and hammered anyone who got too close. “So, what’s the plan? Are you going to ask the engineer to pull his mech over? Flash your spectre badge? Threaten to tell the Illusive Man on him?”

She barked out a breathless laugh. He smiled. “I was thinking something more like a grenade to the face, but I guess I could threaten him with Tali’s cooking,” she ribbed back.

He snorted and sniped a guardian through the peek hole in their shield. They immediately dropped, and Shepard used their shield as a board to spring over a small shipping container. On the other side, she pressed her back against the box.

She was almost close enough to kiss the mech.

“Before you go all ‘I’m Commander Shepard’ on this thing, let me take a couple shots at it. Maybe I can loosen it up for you,” he said. He checked his mag. He only had three rounds left.

“Be my guest,” Shepard gunned down a couple more troopers. She looked up to where Garrus was positioned on top of one of the larger containers. “And don’t miss,” she smirked at him through the chaos.

He hummed and aimed at the mech’s cockpit. “One,” he said. The first bullet splintered the glass. “Two,” he counted, and the glass shattered.

“Three!” Shepard finished for him, leaping from her cover to obliterate the mech’s operator with a barrage of bullets. The mech’s lights sputtered out as the engineer’s body slumped over. She closed the distance and climbed up the side of the machine. She hauled the dead body out and crawled into the cockpit.

“Wrex, get outta there. Shepard’s about to blow a bunch of things up with her shiny new toy,” Garrus warned the Krogan.

“Heh heh, of course she is,” Wrex grumbled. He finished off the centurion he was wrestling with, then ducked behind the nearest crate.

The moment he was clear, Shepard started blasting.

It was glorious. There were explosions and screams of bad-guy agony and regrets. Cerberus bits and pieces rained down across the docking bay.

Wrex caught one of the troopers trying to scramble out of the line of fire. He grabbed them and tossed them back into it. Shepard punched a hole through their chest and cleared the rest of the landing pad.

“Shepard to Cortez, we’re almost ready for you. Only a few left,” she hailed their shuttlecraft pilot.

“On my way,” Cortez answered.

The few Cerberus operatives left retreated from the massacre. This was one battle won, in a never-ending war. They would be back tomorrow, invading a new planet next week, back to their full power by next month.

That’s how they were programmed, after all.

Once the smoke settled, Garrus climbed down from the shipping container. He rendezvoused with Shepard and Wrex on the landing pad.

“Nice sharpshooting,” Shep greeted him as she hoisted herself out of the mech.

“Nice rocket blasting,” Garrus nodded back.

“Get a room,” Wrex grumbled. If krogan could roll their eyes, Wrex’s would be permanently lodged in the back of his skull.

“You did great too Wrex, thanks for the cover fire,” Shepard added.

“Anytime Commander,” he said. He hulked away towards the landing area, leaving Shepard and Garrus to their ‘room’, which just so happened to be a blood-splattered battlefield.

Garrus casually leaned forward to size Shepard up. “Since you stole my last kill, you can hold on to my last bullet. You earned it,” he popped the round out of Black Widow and tossed it over to her. She caught it and looked intently at it for a moment. Her eyes flickered bright green before settling back to their normal cool grey.

“Damn right I did,” she said, and tucked it away.

Garrus set Black Widow down and stepped towards her. After all the excitement and adrenaline, he wasn’t quite ready to let it end.

“What are you–,” she asked, but he’d already folded his arms around her.

“I miss you,” he pressed his forehead against hers. His heartbeat rattled deep inside his carapace.

She pressed her palm to his face–over scars old and new. “I thought I told you not to miss,” she teased.

“I guess I got distracted,” he murmured. His voice flanged with pain. With longing. He held on to her a little tighter.

She closed her eyes and Garrus recommitted every detail of her to his memory. The curve of her nose, the curl of her lips, the freckles that speckled her skin like a wave of stars against the night sky. Humans looked strange, but she was more than that. More to him.

She was his Commander. His best friend. She was brighter and more beautiful than any star in the galaxy.

“I miss you too,” she whispered.

The docking bay disappeared around them. He closed his eyes and held her close until he felt her body slowly collapsing in a stream of coding.

...

The simulation ended.

Garrus tore off his simulator, severing his connection with the program.

With her.

He sat in his living room on Palaven, in the condo Primarch Victus gave him for saving their world. After she saved their universe.

The condo had a breathtaking view of Practis, the city his people built as an oasis at the centre of the Pardavox desert. The architecture and landscape nearly rivalled the Citadel, though it had taken over a decade to rebuild all that was devastated during the reaper invasion.

Garrus sighed. Twelve years. That’s how long it had been since he saw her disappear into the Crucible. They searched for her in the aftermath, but even when the chaos finally calmed, every trace of her was lost to the reapers.

His hands shook. He needed a drink.

He crossed the condo to the kitchen and poured himself a hit of Horosk. He downed it and the bite of it seared his throat. Good. It was just enough to remind him that this was his reality now. Not the virtual one he shared with Shep. The one Tali programmed, and he tweaked.

When Shepard first disappeared, Tali created it for Kaidan because he asked… and, well, Garrus didn’t ask, but he ‘borrowed’ it and he made some… calibrations. Took out most of the fluff and happily-ever-after bits that Alenko requested and replaced it with a hell of a lot more blood splatter and carnage. Just like the good old days.

Him and Shep, hunting reapers, slaying rogue geth. Saving the galaxy one headshot at a time.

It was cathartic. Completely innocent. He always paused the simulation if things got… too real. If he thought he caught Shepard’s VI looking at him the way she used to. If he felt himself slipping too easily into old habits. Losing track of time.

Shepard VI still had some bugs–she lagged in the heat of battle, walked through solid objects occasionally, and her eyes sometimes popped out of her head… but he’d managed to smooth out the glitches with a few updates.

Even this little piece of her was enough for him. It had to be.

He poured himself another shot of Horosk and stared out his window at the sun-bronzed clay hills. Everything on Palaven had a metallic sheen to it. A layer of armour against the solar radiation. When the sun hit the surface just right, the whole world shimmered like a mirage.

Garrus liked it here. He liked the tropical climate and rigid turian lifestyle. Even if someone knew his name, most turians had seen battle. Garrus Vakarian was a war hero, sure, but they’d fought through hell to save their homeworld just the same. So what if he’d taken down a few more reapers than them?

They left him alone, and he liked it better that way. Much better than Liara breathing down his neck, constantly checking in on him.

As if on cue, his holopad blinked up at him. Liara. She’d tried calling him a few times over the past week. He never answered. This time though, fresh out of the simulation and with the Horosk hazing the hardest edges of reality, he decided to pick up.

The pale blue hologram of Liara lit up his living room as he plunked down on his couch, spilling a drop of his drink on himself. She wore her matriarchal robes well, though he never figured out how she balanced being a leader among her people on top of moonlighting as the Shadow Broker. He’d had a hard enough time just being Archangel.

“Liara! I’m so happy you called,” he answered. The flange in his voice was more like a twang, twinged tight by the alcohol.

“Garrus…” Liara hesitated. He knew what he looked like. He knew what she saw.

“How are you, how are things on Illium?” he pushed through.

She sighed. “I’m doing well. Illium is doing well,” she answered. She paced in front of him, fading through his furniture. “I didn’t call for small talk.”

Garrus melted into his couch a little more. “But you’re obviously so good at it,” he sniped.

“Garrus, this is serious. I need your help,” she started, but he waved her off.

“I’m retired, Liara,” he said.

“Retired from the turian military, yes, but we both know you haven’t gone soft. Even if you’ve gone sour,” she replied.

Garrus raised his glass. “Bra-vo. You finally returned fire. It was, eh, a little weak, but we can work on your banter,” he said and downed the shot. The room tilted. His mandibles were starting to feel numb.

“Tali and Kaidan have already agreed to help,” she ignored him, “but we need you, Garrus. Please.” She paused and let her plea linger in the dead space between them. He stared at his empty glass. With a final grunt of frustration, she said, “I can’t say too much over uplink, but it has to do with Shepard. We think we found something.”

The glass in Garrus’s hand cracked. He sat up a little straighter. “You found Shepard?” he asked. Her name cut through the haze of the Horosk.

“Not exactly… I’ll explain more when I get there,” she answered.

He tilted his head at her. “Get where?”

“Palaven. I’m about to enter the relay. We’ll see you soon, Garrus,” she said. She didn’t wait for him to start breathing again. She ended the call and the holo blinked out.

Few relays survived the Crucible’s destructive pulse, but some races were luckier than others. The turians in the Trebia System were among them, along with Illium in the Tasale System and Earth in the Sol System. They’d lost access to the salarian and krogan homeworlds–but Garrus didn’t totally consider those a loss.

He grabbed his simulator and turned it over in his hands. After twelve years… it wasn’t possible. But hell, Shep had done it once before. Cerberus brought her back from more than the brink of death. Maybe Liara could do it again.

He prayed for his sake, she could. Because the galaxy was awfully empty without her.

Chapter 2: Serrice Ice Brandy

The first thing Garrus did, was take a shower. Once he’d slicked off the grime that had built up over days (and days) of skulking around his condo, he went hunting for all his gear. If his old turian Captain saw the state of his place, she would’ve sent Garrus to shovel shit in the Varren pits.

None of his gear was together. He found bits of his armour stashed throughout the condo. He dug his boots out from where they were buried in the back of the guest bedroom closet. There were a couple empty mags stashed in the cracks of the couch cushions. He even found his old Kuwashii visor hidden inside the Prothean art piece Liara commissioned for him.

The only thing he could find with his eyes closed, was Black Widow. She was hanging above the mantel of his cryoplace. She was also the only thing in the condo that wasn’t covered in dust. He cleaned her regularly, held her just to feel the weight of the rifle. The weight of all the memories they’d made together.

When he finished packing, he poured himself another shot of Horosk to kill off the bottle. He tucked his duffle bag under his bed and waited for his unexpected guests to arrive.

Liara, Tali, and Kaidan showed up the next day. Garrus did his best to tidy up the place, but he couldn’t scrub the years’ worth of melancholy and neglect from every surface. Tali didn’t seem to mind–though, it was a little hard to tell through her helmet. Liara tried to conceal her worry but failed when she winced at all the empty bottles lined up on the kitchen counter.

“Target practice,” Garrus tried. She smiled, more out of pity than anything else.

Kaidan, on the other hand, made himself right at home. As an Alliance soldier, he’d probably seen, and lived in, much worse.

“I almost didn’t recognize you, Garrus,” he said as he splayed his arms over the back of the couch. “Been a long time.”

“Really? The scars didn’t give me away?” Garrus asked, flashing Kaidan a sideview of his face. They were almost completely healed, but he still felt them there as raw as the first day he earned them. “I could say the same about you. You’re a bit greyer around the edges than before.”

Humans and turians aged at a similar pace, and both of them still had at least a century of life left to bleed through. But, the military lifestyle tended to leave its mark early, if it didn’t kill them outright. Grey hairs and cracked carapaces were proof they’d fought through hell and made it back in mostly one piece.

“Like a fine wine,” Kaidan chuckled. Aside from the salt that peppered his temples, Kaidan looked the same as before. A little more grisly, with a trimmed beard growing in, but basically the same.

While the three of them made small talk–they were much better at it than Liara–Liara scanned the condo. “If you’re looking for hidden cameras, you’re looking in the wrong place. They’re all in the bedroom,” Garrus said. Kaidan snorted and Tali gagged. Liara ignored him. When she was sure no one was watching or listening, she returned to them.

“We don’t have much time. Garrus, I can explain more once you join us on the ship–,” Liara started.

“–If I join you on the ship,” Garrus corrected her.

“Right, if you join us. For now, all I can tell you is that we think we found a way to find Shepard,” she explained.

Garrus laughed, but it rang hollow. “That’s assuming there’s anything left of her to find,” he growled. Kaidan flinched. “We were all there. We saw what happened to the Crucible when she activated it. It nearly wiped Earth off the face of the galaxy. Killed all the reapers and heretic geth, sure, but it also disabled over half the Mass Effect relays. We still haven’t figured out a way to reactivate the ones we lost. For all we know, those systems could be gone forever. With Shep along with them.”

Liara slammed her fist down on the coffee table, her hand crackling with biotic energy. “Are you finished?” she asked.

“I guess so,” he retorted.

“Good,” she smoothed out her matriarch robes and straightened up. “Shepard is alive. She’s alive, and she’s waiting for us to find her. I may not have solid proof yet, but I have hope.”

Garrus begrudgingly nodded. “Fine, fine. She’s alive sipping Serrice Ice Brandy on a beach somewhere, enjoying her retirement like I was trying to do before you barged in here,” he said.

“Right, and it’s time to save both of you from yourselves,” Liara said.

“But why now? Why after twelve years?” he asked. Why cut open old, cauterized wounds?

“That answer is waiting for you on my ship, the Illari,” Liara said.

Garrus considered her words for a long moment.

His shoulders slumped. “Shepard was a miracle. She was everything we needed, right when we needed it. She was impossible, in more ways than one. I’d give anything to battle by her side again. But… I don’t know if I can do this anymore. I can’t keep hoping for another miracle,” he said. He looked at the drawer he hid his simulator in. His heart ached.

Kaidan stood from the couch and squared off against Garrus.

“You had faith in Shepard, when the rest of us didn’t,” he said. He bowed his head, shame pinking his cheeks. “You stood by her side through everything. Saren, the collectors, the reapers. Don’t give up on her now.”

A fiery flash of anger surged inside Garrus. He charged at Kaidan and pinned him against the wall, ignoring Tali’s cry and Liara’s shout. “I never gave up on her. You did. I watched you break her heart on Horizon and walk away. I’m the one who helped her pick up the pieces when the rest of the galaxy was falling apart around us. You’re the one who abandoned her,” Garrus snarled, mandibles poised wide like a rachni ready to strike. He slammed Kaidan into the wall again. Kaidan met Garrus’s hot glare with a level stare of his own.

“I know that. And I’ll never forgive myself,” Kaidan’s eyes softened. He didn’t fight against Garrus, even as the turian pressed his arm hard into Kaidan’s throat.

After a few breaths, Garrus tempered the heat rising in his chest. He lowered Kaidan to the ground and turned his back to him. He pushed passed Tali and shoved by Liara as he crossed the living room. He paused in the doorway.

“You’re wrong,” he said over his shoulder. “I didn’t just have faith in Shepard. She had faith in me. She had faith in all of us. And she sacrificed everything for it.” He lingered, waiting for one of them to say something. Anything.

They didn’t. He sighed. “I’ll meet you on the Illari.”

He didn’t bother showing them out. He heard the front door close and headed to his bedroom. He’d leave a message for his sister, Solana. She’d pass it along to their father. They’d understand. They never met Shep, but they knew the stories.

They knew who Garrus had become without her.

Once he sent Solana the message, he grabbed his bag from under his bed. He set it down by the door, then collected the only three things he had left in this galaxy that really mattered–Black Widow, his Kuwashii visor, and his simulator.

“Stay sharp Shepard,” Garrus spoke softly to the simulator. The last piece he had of her. “We’re coming for you.”

…

The port was full of turians. You could barely tell that half their population had been wiped out by reapers. Before the invasion, the port brimmed with other races. Hanar, elcor, volus… they’d come to trade, vacation, sightsee. But, with the relays down, it was rare to see races outside their own systems. It was like the entire galaxy had packed up, gone home, and turned off all the lights.

Garrus squeezed through the crowd, clutching his duffle bag as close to him as possible, with Black Widow slung over his shoulder. He heard a few gasps, felt a few stares, but those that recognized him gave him a considerate berth. If the stories weren’t enough to scare them away, the scars were.

Eventually he made it to the bay where the Illari was docked.

After the reapers, the Alliance decommissioned the Normandy out of respect for Shepard. No Captain could live up to the Commander’s legend or her ghost. Garrus was grateful. The Normandy held a lot of memories, happy and tragic, and he didn’t know if he could relive them without the safety net of a simulation. At least with a sim, he could disconnect if it became too much.

Couldn’t do that in real life without a lot of Horosk.

When he reached the Illari, Kaidan was waiting for him. “Glad you’re with us,” he nodded at Garrus. “Are we good?”

Garrus eyed Kaidan wistfully. “We’re good as long as Liara’s intel is good,” he said.

“It is. You’ll see,” Kaidan shrugged. “Can I help you carry anything onboard?”

Garrus unslung his duffle and dropped it in Kaidan’s hands. The weight of his armour threw the human off balance, but he recovered quickly, slinging it over his shoulder. “Thanks,” Garrus slapped Kaidan on the back.

This would be fun.

They entered the Illari’s decontamination chamber, then continued through to the asari ship’s bridge. Most of the crew were asari, but there were a couple humans and turians mixed in. One or two burly-looking krogan, probably cut off from Tuchanka when the relays went down.

Kaidan led them to the elevator at the back of the deck. It brought them down to the lower levels where the crew’s quarters were. Illari was a good-sized ship, maybe even a little bigger than the Normandy with a fully-staffed crew. There were two separate hallways in the quarters, along with a small mess hall and shared rec space.

“Don’t tell me, we get to bunk together? Do I get to braid your hair while you wax my crest? Gossip about Liara’s new fringestyle or who’s dating who?” Garrus asked as he followed Kaidan passed a row of numbered doors. They finally stopped at the end in front of 15B.

“Maybe once you get settled,” Kaidan rolled his eyes. He dropped the duffle and Garrus tried not to wince. Shepard–well, Shepard VI–was in there. He carefully picked up his bag while Kaidan unlocked the door. Once it was open, Kaidan stepped aside.

“This one’s all yours. I’m just down the hall in 12B. Tali’s on the other side in 4A. Liara’s quarters are on the upper decks,” Kaidan explained. “If you need any of us, you’ve got us on holo.”

“Thanks,” Garrus said. He ducked his way through the door–asari were much shorter than turians–then he shut it behind him. The room was pretty cramped, nothing like the main battery room back on the Normandy. This room had a locker, bed, and small desk with some drawer space built-in. No guns to calibrate and pass the time.

He carried his bag over to the bed and set Black Widow down beside it. He pulled the simulator out of his duffle bag. Not a single scratch. He blew out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He cleared the bed off and lied down, slipping the simulator over his crest to cover his eyes.

“Run simulation B-R-N-5,” Garrus commanded. The walls of the Illari faded away, replaced by the low, red light of Normandy’s battery room.

…

“Fancy meeting you here,” Shep greeted him. She leaned against the open doorway, arms crossed over her chest, eyebrow and lips quirked.

“Who, me?” Garrus asked coyly. He tapped a few commands into the main battery’s interface, playing his part.

Shepard stepped into the room and the doors closed behind her. “Well, you know I’m a one-turian kind of girl, Vakarian. Who else would I be looking for in this part of the ship?”

He glanced at her. She was wearing that dress that made her hips look… very supportive. “How about that turian you met at the Silver Coast Casino bar. What was his name again?”

She smiled and blushed. Garrus typed a little harder on the holoboard. “I don’t think he told me his name,” she said.

“Let’s go with Harris Bakarian,” he said, and she burst into laughter. “No? Not creative enough? Okay, how about Archangel, ruggedly handsome, smooth-talking vigilante?”

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” she smirked.

His hands hovered over the holoboard. “Oh? Are we?” he asked. He looked up to see her slinking towards him.

“I like a turian who knows how to break a few rules,” she wiggled her eyebrows at him. He stepped away from the battery and braced himself. She quickly closed the distance between them and pressed her body against his.

“You’ve come to the right place then. I break rules all the time,” he buried his face in her neck, tickling her skin with his mandibles. She giggled and tried to pull away, but he wrapped his arms around her and held her there. “For example, regulation F-10 in the turian military handbook states that a commanding officer can’t participate in sexual relations with anyone under their command,” Garrus recited.

“Mmm, I love when you talk rules and regs to me,” Shep teased him.

“We’ve broken that rule multiple times. Here, up in your quarters, in the cargo hold, once in engineering when Tali was on shore leave…” he trailed off. Shepard ran her hands along his arms. “The list goes on. Remember that one time, in the shuttle, right after we saved–,” he continued, and she suddenly pressed a finger to his mouth.

“You trying to get me fired Vakarian?” she asked.

“Fired? Never. Just warming you up,” he answered. He traced his finger down her chest, careful not to rip her dress with his talon, even though he really, really wanted to. He could feel her shiver beneath his touch.

“Well, it’s working,” she rumbled, her pupils wide and sparking green. She grabbed his wrist and lifted her hips, hooking her leg around his waist for leverage. She pulled his hand lower… lower… tugged her dress higher up her thigh…

…

“Garrus? May I come in?” Liara’s voice ruptured the simulation.

Garrus grated out a growl of frustration and paused. He could still feel Shep’s hand wrapped around his wrist. The warmth of her thigh pressed into his. “Come back later,” he barked.

“Please Garrus, this is important,” she persisted.

Damn asari. He jerked the simulator off and stashed it in the desk drawer. He shook his head a few times and tried to compose himself. After a few hot breaths he wrenched the door open. “What can I do for you, Liara?” he bit off every word.

“You wanted to know how we’re going to find Shepard. I’m here to show you,” she clutched her holo to her chest. Garrus stepped aside and she ducked inside the room. He closed the door, locking it this time.

Liara sat down at the desk and motioned for Garrus to sit on the bed. He did, and she handed him her holo.

He blinked down at the screen. “Is this…?” he trailed off, confused.

“Another Crucible,” Liara confirmed.

“You built another one?” Garrus asked. He didn’t know if he should be angry or awed. A little bit of both, maybe.

“When the reapers invaded, we didn’t have time to analyze the design. We had to work fast with what we had. But, with the reapers gone, I was able to dedicate my resources to not only rebuild the Crucible, but make upgrades to its design as well. To think, if we’d only had a little more time…” she trailed off.

“We could have saved Shepard,” Garrus finished her thought.

“Yes,” Liara said quietly, “I believe so.” She let Garrus take a moment to process the information. He took a few. When he didn’t say anything, Liara continued, “I poured all my resources into this Garrus. Everything I had. Everything the Shadow Broker had. I have nothing left,” she said, tears in her eyes.

Garrus stared at the blueprint for a bigger, more advanced Crucible. Even though it was the weapon that saved their lives, it was also the one that took Shepard’s.

“Yeah, well, neither do I,” he said simply and tossed the holo on the desk. “How is this going to help us find Shepard?”

“It isn’t going to help us find her,” Liara explained, “it’s going to help us bring her back.”

Chapter 3: Hope

“When Shepard activated the Crucible, she harnessed immense Mass Effect field energy. We’re still finding concentrated traces of it in Earth’s outer atmosphere. That got me thinking–what if the Crucible held the key to the Mass Effect relays? The relays were there before us, before the Protheans, before the civilizations that were reaped before them. But even Leviathan didn’t know where the Crucible’s schematics came from. If it’s strong enough to disable the relays, it could be strong enough to create them as well. The plans for the Crucible could be the key to harnessing mass effect energy,” she explained. The more excited she got, the faster her words swept into each other.

Garrus nodded along, pretending to keep up with her. “Sure, sure. So, what does that mean for us then?”

“It means,” Liara paused, gathering her breath back, “we might be able to create our very own Mass Effect relay. Which also means that’s exactly what Shepard could have done when she activated the Crucible.”

Garrus mulled that over while Liara lost herself in the possibilities. “If what you’re saying is even possible, then Shepard could have hightailed it out of there before the Crucible imploded in on itself,” he said. Liara nodded, a hopeful smile playing on her lips. “That also means she might be floating around somewhere in dark space, dead, which is where all Mass Effect relays naturally lead.”

Liara’s smile faded. “Not all of them. We went through the relay on Ilos and it brought us to the Citadel. It’s possible to have a relay that’s linked to a terrestrial plane,” she countered. “Plus, if we can figure out how to use the Crucible to create a relay, perhaps we can use it to reactivate the ones we lost during the reaper invasion.”

Garrus sat quietly for a moment, staring at the holopad. Finally, he said, “This is all just a theory. A shot in the dark.”

“Yes, but it’s the best shot we have,” Liara said quietly.

He stretched out the tension knotting in his shoulders. “Well, I’ve been known to make one or two good shots in my career. I’m sure with your Crucible, Tali’s tech, Kaidan’s hair, and my expertise, we’ll be able to bring her back,” Garrus said.

Dead or alive, we’ll bring her back.

“You’re only missing one thing from your equation,” Liara said. She grabbed her holo and headed for the door. Over her shoulder, she added, “Wrex’s hard head. We’re picking him up next.”

“Getting the gang back together,” Garrus chuckled, “Shep would be proud.”

“She’ll be even prouder when we find her and bring her home,” Liara murmured, and the door closed behind her.

Garrus triple-locked the door and returned to his bed. He stared up at the ceiling for a long time, listening to the ship’s engine hum. They’d probably already left Palaven and he hadn’t even noticed. The place he’d called home for the last twelve years, and he didn’t give it a second thought. Just packed up and left.

He scrubbed his hands over his face.

He always had a feeling that Shepard was out there, somewhere. Whether she was alive or watching over him, he felt it. Just beyond his reach. It drove him to the edge, to the bottom of the bottle, into Shepard VI’s arms. Even though she was just a program, at least he could physically feel her in the sim. Unlike the phantom inside his mind that was untouchable.

The small spark of hope Liara stoked with her Crucible theory made that phantom unbearable.

If Shepard had been alive this whole time, he’d wasted twelve years feeling sorry for himself, flirting with a VI, when he could’ve been out there looking for her.

Some boyfriend he’d turned out to be.

No, he heard Shepard’s voice in his head, I knew what I was signing up for, Vakarian. It was either me or the galaxy. The choice was easy.

The look on Shepard’s face when she told him to leave her behind… it still haunted him. He saw it every time he closed his eyes. Every time he let his mind wander. Every time he felt a breath of happiness, it was choked out of him by those final moments with her.

He left… and she watched him go. And then she died.

Or… maybe she didn’t.

Garrus reached into his bag and pulled out his last bottle of Horosk. He didn’t bother finding a cup. He popped off the lid and tipped back a couple mouthfuls. A hazed mind was better than a wandering one. He wiped his mandibles and set the bottle down beside the bed.

He laid down. Closed his eyes. Watched Shepard enter the Crucible. Again and again and again. And again. Until the Horosk burned away the memory and replaced it with oblivion.

…

Garrus awoke to a gentle knock that made his brain rattle. He slowly peeled himself out of bed and stumbled to the door. It slid open, and Tali stood on the other side, arms crossed.

“Sorry to wake you,” she said, eying him, “but you didn’t join us at dinner. I was worried.”

Garrus leaned into the doorframe, trying to block her view of the bottle that was still uncapped next to his bed. “Worried? About me? Nah, I’m fine. Just gearing up for the big rescue mission,” he said.

The flange in his voice wavered, and Tali peeked under his arm. Her glowing eyes narrowed, almost vanishing inside her enviro-suit’s mist. “Right, gearing up,” she echoed. She grabbed his wrist and started pulling him out of the doorway, towards the mess hall. “I made a dextro-protein shake with some ingredients I smuggled in from the Migrant Fleet. You’ll love it,” she said.

Garrus was pretty sure he wouldn’t.

She tugged him along anyways, leading him towards the mess hall. Dinner had long-since passed, but a few of the crew still sat at the tables, some of them eating, others dealing another hand of cards to pass the time between shifts.

Tali led him to one of the benches and patted the seat. “Sit. I’ll grab the shake,” she ordered. He complied. He kept his eyes down as much as possible, only lifting his gaze to greet Tali as she returned. She set a glass down in front of him, then slid onto the bench across from him.

“Tali… what exactly is this…?” Garrus lifted the glass to get a closer look at the slush inside.

“I told you. Dextro-protein shake. It tastes better than it looks, I promise,” she nudged his hand, lifting the glass closer to his mandibles.

He clenched his throat and threw the glass back. The smoothie slowly sludged into his mouth.

After a few forced gulps, he set the glass down on the table. “Tastes like…” he trailed off, assessing. It tasted like what he imagined vorcha vomit tasted like, but he wasn’t going to tell Tali that. Instead, he said, “It’s good. Really good.”

Tali crossed her arms. “Really? Because I thought it tasted like shit. It’s supposed to help with hangovers. I learned the recipe after our big the-galaxy-is-probably-ending party on the Citadel,” she said.

“So you lied to me. You promised I’d like it,” Garrus said.

“Yes, I did. Are you angry?” she asked, picking nervously at her gloved fingers.

“Impressed, actually,” he said, and pushed the glass away. “But I’m not drinking any more. It’s awful.”

“Fair enough,” Tali nodded. She slid the shake to the far side of the table.

After a few moments of silence, Garrus shifted forward. “So. Why are you here? Why aren’t you on Rannoch, building your beachside dreamhouse?”

Tali thought about it. Then, her glowing eyes raised to meet his. “Shepard gave me back my home. She gave me back my hope. And I’m not going to give up on her until we turn over every asteroid, in every galaxy,” she answered.

“We don’t even know if she’s alive,” Garrus started, but she cut him off.

“She is. I feel it, Liara feels it. Everyone does,” she said. “So, either we’re all crazy, or we all need to do this to find closure.”

Garrus didn’t want closure. Closure meant the end.

“Definitely all crazy. Otherwise, we never would have made it back alive from so many suicide missions,” he said. Tali laughed, and the sound of it eased some of Garrus’s tension.

“True,” she said.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kaidan walk into the mess hall. A woman strode in next to him. She had short, black hair, brown skin, and she was holding on to Kaidan’s arm.

Rahna.

Garrus knew Kaidan rekindled his relationship with his childhood friend, but he hadn’t met her. He skipped the annual reunions with the Normandy crew–and most of the other gatherings they had.

From what he knew, Rahna wasn’t fond of turians. Bad memories, and all that.

The two of them approached the table. “Tali,” Kaidan smiled at her, and Tali’s eyes smiled back. He turned towards Garrus, pulling Rahna forward. “Garrus. I wanted you to meet my partner, Rahna.”

Rahna summoned a smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’ve heard a lot of stories about you, Garrus Vakarian,” she greeted him.

He nodded back. “Only the good ones, I hope,” he said.

“Just the ones where I kicked your ass at poker,” Kaidan smirked. Rahna rolled her eyes.

“How about the ones where I kicked your ass, period,” Garrus countered.

Kaidan chuckled, and Rahna smiled a little easier this time. “No, I haven’t heard those ones. But I’d love to. I could use some pointers,” she said and quirked an eyebrow at Kaidan.

“Well, Alenko’s an old man now. You just have to go for the knees,” Garrus explained.

“Actually, there’s a spot right here,” she said, pressing her finger into Kaidan’s side, “that’s particularly ticklish. Easiest way to disarm him and take him down.”

Kaidan raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. I see I’ve made a tactical error, introducing you two. Come on Rahna, let’s grab a bite,” he said, resting his hand on her hip and guiding her away.

“It was nice meeting you, Garrus,” Rahna said over her shoulder.

“You too,” Garrus nodded at them. They disappeared into the kitchen, and Garrus looked back over at Tali.

“See? That wasn’t so bad,” she said. She’d been quietly watching the exchange.

Garrus sighed. “What do you mean?”

Tali shrugged and uncrossed her arms. “You tensed up when they walked over. The same way you do when you’re evaluating a battlefield,” she observed.

“Yeah, well. Kaidan and I have some… unresolved issues. And I’ve never met Rahna,” he mumbled. Under Tali’s cool gaze, he was starting to feel too exposed. “Anyways, I should head back to my room. Thanks for the vorcha vomit,” he said, and stood from the table.

“Garrus,” she said, and reached out to grab his hand, “before you go, I just want you to know that I’m here if you need to talk. I know this is a lot to take in.”

Garrus squeezed her fingers, then pulled his hand away. “Thanks Tali, but I’ll be fine. I just need some time,” he said.

He retreated to his room. He knocked back a shot to chase away the taste of Tali’s shake. He capped the bottle and stashed it in the bottom drawer of his desk, next to his simulator.

“I… I just hope they’re right…” he said quietly, dropping his face into his hands.

Chapter 4: Swan dive

“Run simulation P-S-D-1.”

…

“You’re wrong,” Shepard huffed, blowing a strand of hair out of her eyes.

“Oh?” Garrus asked. He leaned over and tucked the strand behind her ear. She shot him a dangerous look. A dare. She caught his hand before he could pull away and wove her fingers through his.

They stood on one of the presidium’s overpasses, gazing out at the hovercars, the station, and beyond at the sea of stars the citadel drifted through. The last time they were up here, they shot empty bottles and pretended they were shooting reapers. His idea of a date, at the time.

One of their last.

“There’s no way in hell there are fish in there. Water’s crystal clear,” she said. Fractals of light danced off the surface of the presidium’s idyllic reservoir below. She wore her usual N7 hoodie and sweats, but she was still shivering from the slight breeze wafting up from the water.

In all his years at C-Sec, he’d only ever been brave enough to bend the rules once. With her. She gave him the courage to shed his strict turian training. To challenge his codes and push beyond his limits.

She gave him the courage to be himself.

“Well, Shepard. If you don’t think I’m right, there’s really only one way to prove me wrong,” he said. They were so close that his mandibles brushed her cheeks as he spoke.

“We could ask one of the citadel groundskeepers,” Shepard suggested, “or maybe the Avina knows.”

He casually nodded along as he placed one hand on her lower back, and the other on her hip. “Sure. Or,” he said and peered over the edge, “we could see for ourselves.” The reservoir was at least a sixty-foot drop, and hovercars cruised by in between. It would be like trying to thread a bullet through an asteroid field.

He was up to the challenge.

“You’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking… are you?” Shepard asked.

“If you think I’m thinking about skinny dipping in the presidium, then you have a very dirty mind Shepard,” he replied coyly. He pulled her into his body and stepped them closer to the edge. “But, you might be able to talk me into it.”

Shep gripped his shoulders. “Can I talk you out of it instead?”

He chuckled. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you back down from a challenge. But, if you admit I’m right, we can finish our date on dry land,” he offered. “To be honest, I would much rather get you wet.”

She blushed. It was a rare sight. One that hitched his breath every time.

“There’s no way in hell you’re right,” she murmured. Her eyes dropped to the water below, calculating and determined.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he smirked.

They stepped over the edge and fell through the air. Garrus felt weightless, and almost as free as the first time he flew through Zero-G. He let the sensation wash over him, and he was nearly at peace… until a hovercar hurtled into their path.

For a moment the simulation paused. Shepard froze in Garrus’s arms. Even though the danger wasn’t real—it never was, here—a spark of panic pinged through him. He held onto Shepard even tighter, closed his eyes, and the simulation resumed.

The hovercar collided with them, detonating into a burst of harmless code.

“Close call,” Shepard shouted over the rushing wind. Her eyes glitched bright green, and for a moment he felt her body vanish beneath his hands like the hovercar had. He grasped for her, and she re-materialized just before they plunged into the reservoir.

The water frothed around them in a vortex as they sank, still netted in each other’s arms. Through the veil of bubbles, Sheperd’s lips found his, and they shared a breathless, clumsy kiss that stole away the last of Garrus’s air. Slowly, they floated upwards and broke the surface, still locked together.

Shep pulled away, and Garrus took a moment to get his breath back.

She glanced around the water, then smirked at him. “I don’t see any fish, Garrus,” she said. And, of course, she was right. Garrus knew that before they’d taken their dive.

“Well, you’re going to have to be the one to tell Wrex. I don’t want to break his heart,” he replied, playfully splashing her.

“He told you there were fish in here?” she asked, then returned fire. She slapped the water, sending a wave towards him. He ducked under the water to dodge it and swam to her. He used her to guide himself back to the surface, tracing his hands up her legs, thighs, and hips before resurfacing beside her.

He wiped water out of his eyes and kept his other hand on her side. “He thought presidium fish might make a good snack in between roughing up mercs and saving the galaxy. I guess he’ll have to settle for whatever Tali cooks up next,” he answered.

Shep’s nose wrinkled. She dipped lower into the water, up to her chin, and quirked an eyebrow at him. “So. What was it you were saying about skinny dipping in the presidium?”

“One sec,” Garrus said.

…

He lifted up his simulator. His room on the Illari was quiet and quadruple locked. Most of the crew were in their quarters, sleeping. He wasn’t expecting visitors, but Liara and Tali had an uncanny knack for interrupting his simulations.

He turned his omni-tool on do not disturb, made sure he didn’t have any messages from the asari or quarian, then laid back down on his bed.

He made a quick edit to the sim, then slipped it back over his eyes.

…

The hovercars overhead disappeared, along with the other simulated citadel tourists. He wanted to be alone with her.

“Where were we?” Garrus asked, slipping his hand in between Shepard’s thighs. “Ah, that’s right. You were just about to try and talk me into getting you out of your clothes.” He found her hands and pulled her closer, lifting her wrists to rest them on his shoulders. Next, he slowly unzipped her hoodie and peeled it off.

She rested her hand on Garrus’s chest. “My turn,” she said. She stripped off his shirt and tossed it aside. It slapped the water and then sank into the dark depths.

“This skinny dip might turn into a streak through the Presidium commons,” Garrus chuckled.

“I’d pay good credits to see that,” Shepard smiled and reached for the band of his pants. He grabbed her wrist and lifted it back to his shoulder.

“I think it’s my turn,” he said, and slipped his fingers under her shirt. He felt tiny goosebumps forming beneath his touch, and he left a trail of them up her ribs to the curve of her breast. He pressed his mandibles to her throat, savouring the small gasps that escaped her lips as he gently nibbled her neck.

“Garrus,” she whispered, voice thick. He pulled back and she rested her hands on either side of his face. Her eyes electrified green, and he found it harder and harder to breathe. The glitch in her eyes twitched to the side of her mouth, and she froze for a moment before the coding caught up.

It broke the illusion.

She looked like Shepard. She felt like Shepard. But she wasn’t Shepard. “I love you,” the VI droned. It sounded empty.

A well of emotions surged inside of Garrus. “I…” he swallowed, and the lump in his throat started choking him.

She leaned forward and rested her forehead against his, but he found no comfort in the phantom touch. He closed his eyes, trying to catch his breath. But he was suffocating. The water began to crawl up his neck as they started to sink. The heat between them evaporated into a cold and dark emptiness. He felt her slipping away. Away.

Until there was nothing.

…

Garrus gasped for air as he tore off the simulator. His chest burned and black spots blurred the edges of his vision. His omni-tool pulsed red, alerting him that his heartbeat was fluctuating at dangerous levels.

He forced down deep, grating breaths until his chest was sore from the effort. He refocused his mind with calculations and calibrations. It took a few minutes, but he gradually grounded himself. His omni-tool stopped chirping at him, and he felt the dizziness drain away into exhaustion.

He grabbed the simulator, turned it off, and tossed it into the drawer. He knocked back the last of his Horosk and tossed the empty bottle in with the simulator. He slammed the drawer shut.

After a simulated nightmare like that, he couldn’t sleep. Even though his veins felt like ice, he couldn’t sit still. He left his room and wandered the ship’s decks until he stumbled upon a familiar face.

“Can’t sleep?” Kaidan asked. He sat alone, staring out the observatory’s window. Compared to Normandy’s theatre-sized glass pane, the Illari’s observatory was basically a porthole.

“Can’t sleep,” Garrus agreed. He sat down next to Kaidan, and they stared out at the cosmos together. “Think she’s really out there?” Garrus broke the silence swelling up between them. The room wobbled as the Horosk dampened what was left of his senses.

“Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t,” Kaidan said quietly. “As much as I miss drifting through space, I’m ready to settle down. Rahna and I found a condo in Vancouver that’s pretty close to where I grew up. It’s a good place to retire.”

Silence settled back over them. An asteroid trailed by, leaving a tail of debris that drew a line against space. “How’d you do it?” Garrus asked.

“Do what?” Kaidan asked.

“Move on. From her,” he answered.

Kaidan looked over at Garrus. “I needed to let myself have a life again. It took a while, but I’d already lost her… twice,” he winced. “I lost her when the collectors split the Normandy in half, and Cerberus glued her back together. Then I lost her again when she chose you. So, I’ve had some practice.”

Garrus dug his fingers into his palms. “What can I say,” he said drily, “she chose the better turian.”

“She chose the turian that stood by her side and never stopped believing in her. She chose the turian that took a gunship rocket to the side of his face for her. She chose the turian that fought for what he believed was right, bureaucracy be damned. It had nothing to do with who was better, or who was turian or human. She chose you because she deserved you and nothing less,” Kaidan countered. He stood and headed towards the door. “Measure yourself up to that turian, Garrus. Because I’m not so sure he’s still here,” Kaidan said. Then he left.

“He died when she did,” Garrus said to the empty room.

Chapter 5: Omega

“Garrus?” Liara paused. “Garrus.”

He glanced up from the floor. “Hmm?” he hummed, dragging himself out of his introspection. Liara had invited Kaidan, Tali, and him to her quarters to hold a private council.

“Did you hear me?” she asked. It was a rhetorical question, so she didn’t wait for an answer. “Wrex is holed up on Omega.”

“Ah, my old shooting range,” Garrus acknowledged.

“Yes. Aria T’Loak is still the station’s leader, and the mercenary groups continue to operate in her shadow,” Liara explained. “Wrex has been working with Aria as her second-in-command.”

“I find it hard to believe Wrex is anyone’s second-in-command. The only reason he isn’t leading Clan Urdnot back on Tuchanka is because their relay went down and he got stranded,” Garrus said. In the aftermath of the reapers, Garrus offered to post up with Wrex on Palaven. Wrex declined. Said something about refusing to roll over and die a slow death from turian politics and boredom.

“He’s probably having the time of his life. Omega’s gotta be a big playground to him,” Kaidan said.

“Yes, there are still plenty of mercenaries on Omega who want to overthrow Aria. Wrex likely partnered up with her for that reason,” Liara agreed.

“I like it. Why waste time hunting down mercs? Set out the buffet and let them come to you. As Wrex would say, ‘it’s like shooting pyjaks in a barrel’.” Garrus said, and Liara smiled. “There’s a pretty good spot on Omega if we want to clean up a bit while we’re there. It’s across a bridge, partially blown up, and part of my face might still be printed into the ground, but it’s a good place to headshot mercs,” Garrus said. His hand itched for Black Widow.

“Easy there, Garrus. Your Archangel is showing,” Tali said.

He shrugged. “Just feeling a little nostalgic, is all,” he crossed his arms and leaned against the wall.

“Speaking of your time on Omega, I was hoping you could lead the shore team, Garrus,” Liara said.

Garrus laughed. No one else did.

“Me? Really? You know I’m retired, right?” he asked.

“Everyone knows that if you hadn’t joined Shepard’s team, you would’ve had your own command,” Kaidan said. “Even if you’re a bit rusty, a few combat training sims will loosen you up.”

Garrus flinched. He hadn’t touched his simulator since it glitched.

“The first team I commanded got wiped out by Sidonis. On Omega,” Garrus deadpanned.

“And since then, you led half of Shep’s squad through the collectors’ base without taking any casualties. You also helped command the entire turian army when the reapers invaded,” Kaidan countered.

Garrus shrugged. “Well, when you put it that way, I guess I am pretty badass.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Kaidan smirked.

“Yeah you would,” Garrus smirked back.

“It’s settled then. Garrus, you’ll command the shore team,” Liara stated. Before he could protest, she locked in his rank on the mission dossier. “Land, find Wrex, convince him to join the Illari.”

“You make it sound easy,” Garrus grumbled. He had better luck convincing a thresher maw to let him ride it than he did trying to get Wrex to do something he didn’t want to do.

“It should be more than easy,” Liara quirked her eyebrow, “for a badass like you.”

…

Down in the docking bay, the shore team strapped on their armour and ammo. They needed to be ready for anything on Omega.

After Shepard helped Aria take the station back from Cerberus, the temporary truce lasted as long as the reapers did. The moment the threat disappeared, the threads of peace unravelled. Without a common enemy to unite them, and distract them, they started blasting each other. Talon rallied and wiped out the Blue Suns, Eclipse, and Blood Pack. But there were still fights in the streets, and old grudges brewing beneath the surface.

And that’s where Black Widow came in.

“Are you sure you need that? It’s not exactly… subtle…” Tali eyed the rifle warily.

“What, this old thing?” Garrus asked. He hefted Black Widow up and examined her, unashamedly showing her off. “She’s just a decommissioned antique. Probably can’t even poke a hole through a tin can anymore. Completely harmless.” She had her fair share of scrapes and thermal burns, sure, but Black Widow was ready for the next merc that crossed her scope.

Tali stepped in for a closer look. “She’s got some war scars, but she’s just as deadly as the antique holding her,” she quipped.

Garrus pressed a button and Black Widow’s scope retracted, compacting the rifle down into something much more manageable to carry. “Alright, alright. I get it. I’m old,” he sighed.

“Aren’t we all,” Kaidan grimaced. He stretched his back as he settled into his armour. They all heard the creak of his spine as it realigned. “Now I know how Anderson felt. War is a young person’s game.”

“Good thing we aren’t going to war,” Tali muttered. Between the three of them, she was the youngest by a couple years, and quarians tended to live as long as humans, if not longer, barring any bacterial infections. Still, she’d seen her fair share of the battlefield. Enough to age her beyond her years.

Once they finished gearing up, they met their pilot by the shuttle. Like most of the crew, she was asari. “It’s truly my honour to meet you,” she greeted them. “My name is Ny’nezea T’Soni.”

“T’Soni? As in…?” Garrus trailed off.

“Yes, as in Liara. Benezia was my mother’s sister,” Ny’nezea explained.

“I didn’t know Liara had any relatives,” Garrus said.

“She does,” Ny’nezea smiled. She bowed her head and ducked into the shuttle, taking her spot at the helm. Garrus followed, trailed by Kaidan and Tali. Once they settled in, Ny’nezea closed the shuttle door. Illari’s control team cleared her for departure, and she slowly eased them out of the bay.

As they flew towards Omega, Garrus closed his eyes and listened to the familiar patter of space dust against the hull. It reminded him of the sandstorms back on Palaven. Sometimes, the sand clouds sprawled across the Pardavox desert to consume the city, making it feel like Garrus was the only turian left on the planet. It was peaceful.

And a little lonely.

“It’s gonna be pretty weird being back on Omega,” Kaidan mused. Tali nodded her agreement. “I wonder how much has changed.”

“If Aria’s still in charge, nothing’s changed,” Garrus said. He opened his eyes to find them staring at him. “She rebuilt Omega the same as before, down to the last stripper pole in Afterlife.”

“It’ll still feel different,” Kaidan said. Without her with us, he left unspoken.

“Regardless, I’m looking forward to seeing Wrex again,” Tali added.

On that, they all agreed.

As they approached Omega, Ny’nezea hailed the station. They directed her to land in one of the open docks, and she smoothly manoeuvred the shuttle into the spot. As the dock clamps secured the shuttle, the team got ready to go ashore. “I’ll be here when you return,” Ny’Nezea assured them, flipping switches and pressing buttons in the cockpit.

The shuttle hatch opened and Garrus stepped out, with Kaidan and Tali following closely behind. When Cerberus tried to take the station, they blew it full of holes and the adjutants tore up its insides. Omega nearly bled out by the time Shepard slapped a medi-gel on it and left it in Aria’s hands.

It wasn’t bleeding out anymore.

All the damage from Omega’s war with Cerberus was patched up and upgraded. Where Cerberus had torn down walls, Omega had rebuilt reinforced ones. He expected to run into a Blue Sun barrier, demanding a toll to enter the station, or Blood Pack krogans headbutting civilians. But he didn’t see a single thug or merc lurking in the bay. It didn’t even smell like vorcha piss.

“This isn’t what I expected,” he said as he glanced around. Kaidan hummed his agreement.

“Yeah,” Kaidan crossed his arms. “Where’s the welcome party?”

On cue, the bay doors opened and a couple of armed guards stepped through. They had the Talon emblem emblazoned on their gear.

“Ah, I was beginning to worry we landed at the wrong station,” Garrus said.

The guards stepped aside, and a familiar, grizzled man stepped forward. “Aria sends her regards.”

“Zaeed,” Garrus said, as Tali exclaimed, “Zaeed?”

“Garrus, Tali,” Zaeed acknowledged them, blatantly ignoring Kaidan.

“What are you doing here?” Tali asked.

“Caught the first ride off Earth after the invasion. Didn’t want to spend another second on that shit heap of a planet,” Zaeed explained.

“So you came to this shit heap of a station?” Garrus asked.

Zaeed grinned, though it looked more like he was baring his teeth. “You know me. I love the smell of shit in the morning,” Zaeed answered.

“I prefer coffee, but maybe that’s just me,” Kaidan mumbled. Zaeed glared at him.

“Nobody asked you,” Zaeed growled.

“But why are you here?” Tali asked again.

Zaeed shrugged. “Aria needed help rounding up the last of the Blue Suns, so I volunteered. Not for free though, of course. She paid me enough creds to retire on a bloody beach somewhere, if I wanted to. But only twats retire, so I blew it all on booze and Jessie.” He lovingly stroked the Avenger he was holding.

As much as Garrus didn’t like Zaeed, he respected the love between a man and his firearm.

“Well, as nice as it is to see you, we’re here for Wrex. Not Aria,” Garrus said.

“Not your choice,” Zaeed said.

Garrus squared his shoulders and stepped toward Zaeed. In unison, the Talon guards raised their guns and pointed. Tali moved in between Garrus and Zaeed, her hands up. “We didn’t come here to start a fight either,” she said to both of them, though her eyes lingered longer and more pointedly on Garrus.

“Listen to the lady,” Zaeed said and motioned for his guards to stand down. They lowered their weapons, but they kept their fingers on the triggers.

Garrus sighed. “Fine.”

“Shame. I’d have loved to have a pissing contest with the infamous Archangel,” Zaeed said. The Talon guards behind him fidgeted, glancing nervously at each other. Archangel was a ghost to them. A bogeyman. Good. “Come on,” Zaeed ordered, and they fell in line behind him on his way out of the bay.

“What an ass,” Kaidan said quietly.

“Yeah,” Garrus agreed. “But I’m pretty sure he’s Shepard’s father. So he gets a pass.”

Kaidan’s eyes blew wide. “I’m sorry… what?”

“Something Liara told me once, when she was scrubbing through the previous Shadow Broker’s intel. Not sure if it’s true,” Garrus shrugged.

“Does he know? Did she know?” Kaidan asked, incredulous.

“I don’t think so,” Garrus said, and left it at that.

…

Omega may have cleaned itself up, but Afterlife looked the same. Garrus was right, there wasn’t a stripper pole out of place. The smell of sweat and spilt booze lingered thick in the air, and the music was so loud Garrus could feel the beat deep in his carapace. Red neon lights hazed the harshest edges. And they hid the bloodstains.

Zaeed marched them over to Aria’s perch. “No funny business,” he said, looking directly at Kaidan. He took up position at the bottom of the stairs and nodded them on. They climbed the stairs and the guard at the top stopped them.

“Let them through,” Aria said. The guard stepped aside, revealing Aria in all of her glorious glory. She lounged on the couch, her legs spread and her arm draped over the back. She smirked at them as they approached, her eyes dark. “You better not be here to kill any of my mercs,” she said.

“No,” Garrus said, “if you haven’t heard, I’m retired.”

“The Black Widow on your back suggests otherwise, but I’ll take your word for it.” She tilted her chin towards the open seat on the couch. “Sit down,” she said. It wasn’t a suggestion.

“This isn’t a social call, we aren’t staying for long,” Garrus tried. Aria’s jaw locked.

“Sit down,” she repeated. He grudgingly sat. Once he did, Aria settled back. “I know why you’re here. And the answer is no. You can’t take him.”

Garrus frowned. He glanced around the club, looking for a big, burly krogan, but even from this vantage point he couldn’t see Wrex anywhere. “That isn’t your call,” he said.

“Oh, but it is my call. Everything on this station is my call. A lightbulb doesn’t get changed without my say so, and I say you aren’t taking my right-hand krogan, so,” Aria explained.

“Does Wrex get a say at all? Because I get the feeling he wouldn’t be thrilled about an asari trying to dictate what he does and where he goes,” Garrus countered.

Aria’s lip twitched. “Wrex and I have an understanding. He protects me, I entertain him. In fact, I’m entertaining him right now, with a rogue pack of mercs who think they can overthrow me. I’m sure by now he’s painting the walls with their blood,” she said.

“A rogue pack of mercenaries? Isn’t that a little redundant?” Garrus asked.

“A lot has changed since Shepard saved my ass,” Aria said. “I worked with Talon to clear the board. We eradicated the Blood Pack, Blue Suns, and Eclipse, and we unified under one name. Talon, in honour of Nyreen.”

“Touching,” Garrus said.

“Tactical,” Aria retorted. “Nyreen didn’t have hirelings, she had followers, and I used them to unite the station under my command. Every now and then, an old adversary tries to relive their glory days and they start gunning for me. They die trying. Wrex is the hammer I send to remind them who’s in charge.”

“If you need a krogan to do that, then maybe you aren’t as in charge as you think,” Garrus said. Anger flared in Aria’s eyes, and Garrus remembered Tali’s words from earlier. “Listen, we didn’t come here looking for a fight. Just let us speak with Wrex and let him decide if he wants to stay or come with us.”

The heat simmered in Aria’s eyes. “Fine,” she finally said, “I’ll give you my blessing to speak with him, under one condition.”

“This’ll be good,” Kaidan muttered.

“Tell me why you need him,” she said.

Garrus leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He could lie to her, make something up about investigating a reaper resurgence. He could tell her the truth and potentially compromise the mission.

He didn’t want to lie, but he also didn’t want to tell her everything.

“I can’t tell you all the details, but I will tell you that what we’re doing, we’re doing for Shepard,” he said.

“Shepard’s dead. The only thing you can do for her is say a prayer and drink to her memory,” Aria remarked. Garrus didn’t say anything. He kept his eyes locked onto hers. After a moment, she sighed. “Fine. I don’t like owing a corpse for saving my station, so consider this payment for the debt I had to her. You can talk to Wrex. Take him with you, for all I care. Just don’t ask me for anymore favours.”

“Deal,” Garrus said.

“Wrex is in the Kenzo District. If you leave now, you might be able to catch up to him,” Aria said.

Garrus froze. “The Kenzo District?”

“Yes, the Kenzo District,” she replied.

Garrus took an ice-cold breath and forced himself to his feet. “Thanks,” he mumbled, and headed down the stairs. Aria watched him go, a dangerous smile playing on her lips.

Zaeed nodded at them on their way out, but Garrus’s vision had started to blur. He stumbled his way out of the club, his heart pounding feverishly. Once they were out, he leaned against the wall, pressing his forehead into it.

Sidonis sent Garrus to the Kenzo District under the guise of disrupting a Blue Suns gun running operation. While he was chasing a false lead, Garm, the leader of the Blue Suns, attacked Garrus’s hideout and murdered his squad.

“Garrus, are you okay?” Tali asked. She rubbed small circles along his back, soothing the sharp pain blossoming there.

“I’m fine,” he straightened up, brushing her hand away from him. “Let’s go get Wrex.” And get the hell off this station, he thought bitterly.

Chapter 6: Birajuujuu

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Tali asked. Once Garrus caught his breath, they’d hailed a shuttle to the Kenzo District. It was a quick ride through clear airways—most of Omega’s populace couldn’t afford shuttles, or they preferred slogging through the station’s clogged underbelly.

Garrus looked up at Tali, and he saw something soft in her eyes that nearly broke him. He sighed and shook his head—no, he wasn’t okay. But that didn’t matter. “Sidonis lured me to the Kenzo District. That’s what got my squad killed,” he explained.

“I’m so sorry, Garrus. If there’s anything I can do,” Tali trailed off, unsure of what more to say.

Garrus nodded, then turned to stare out the shuttle window. It wasn’t long before they reached the district and climbed out onto the landing strip. As soon as they unloaded, the shuttle took off, stranding them there.

No turning back now.

If Afterlife was Omega’s beating heart, the Kenzo District was the blister on its ass. Vorcha loomed in every alcove, hissing and chittering at any who walked by. Batarian merchants hocked stolen goods, and krogan thugs supplied them, stripping armour, weapons, and anything else that looked vaguely of value off their victims. Junkies wandered the streets, panhandling for their next hit.

It was everything that made Garrus's trigger-finger itch.

“How do you want to do this?” Kaidan asked, scanning the district.

“We could try and listen for gunshots and screams,” Tali suggested.

“We’ll be running around here all day if we do that,” Garrus deadpanned.

“We could wait here for him. He’ll have to take a shuttle back to Afterlife sooner or later,” Kaidan offered.

 “This isn’t the only landing strip. Plus, that doesn’t sound nearly as exciting as hunting Wrex down ourselves,” Garrus said. An old proverb came to mind, one that the turians adapted from humans after the First Contact war.

When on Earth, do as the Earthlings do.

“When on Omega…” Garrus mumbled. “Follow my lead,” he told Tali and Kaidan. He grabbed Black Widow from his back and extended her scope. He checked her thermal clip, cracked his neck, and strode over to the nearest batarian. “Looking for a krogan. Calls himself Wrex, works for Aria. Have you seen him?”

The batarian snorted at him. “Piss off unless you’re gonna buy something,” he snarled.

Garrus didn’t hesitate. He reached across the stall and grabbed a fistful of the batarian’s shirt. He yanked hard, smashing the batarian’s cheek into the countertop. “Let’s try that again. Wrex, works for Aria, have you seen him?” Garrus repeated.

The batarian grumbled and struggled against Garrus’s grip, but the moment he lifted his head, Garrus yanked him back down. “I haven’t seen him,” he yowled in pain.

“That’s a damn shame, because there’s a bounty on Wrex Urdnot’s head and I'm here to collect,” Garrus announced. He let go of the batarian and hoisted Black Widow up on his hip. “And I’m willing to pay for intel or shoot anyone who gets in my way.”

Tali and Kaidan glanced at each other. The batarian rubbed the welt on his cheek. He snorted, all eight nostrils closing to gather phlegm, then he hocked it up and spat at Garrus. Garrus sidestepped the mucus missile and it hit a passing vorcha instead. It hissed at the batarian but kept walking when it saw Black Widow. “I don’t know where your krogan is,” the batarian said, his head tilted sharply to the right.

“Well, if you see him, let him know I’m looking for him,” Garrus said.

“I don’t even know who you are, birajuujuu,” the batarian barked.

"That's Arcangel, to you," Garrus said, and the Batarian's four eyes blew wide in a panic. As they walked away, Tali tugged on Garrus’s elbow. “What was the point of that?” she asked.

Garrus nodded towards a gruff-looking group of humans near the batarian’s stall. “See that merry band of mercs? They’re going to lead us right to Wrex,” he explained.

“How do you know that?” she asked.

Garrus smiled. “Their eyes lit up when I said the magic word. Bounty. They’ll find Wrex if they think there’s a payday in it for them,” he said.

On cue, the leader of the mercs nodded and the group dispersed. “Clever,” Kaidan said.

“Lazy, actually. But it’ll get the job done... if it works,” Garrus replied. In his hay day, maybe he would’ve savoured the hunt. Chasing down leads, roughing up thugs, walking that fine line between vigilante and vengeful assassin. But he didn’t want to waste anymore time. Not when Shep was out there somewhere. “Let’s split up. I’ll tail the one that looks like he had his face mashed through a heating vent. You two take the ones that just left. Stay connected on comms.”

Tali and Kaidan nodded, wordlessly following Garrus’s command.

…

“Okay, this is the fifth time I’ve watched this guy adjust his crotch,” Kaidan crackled over comms. “Are you sure this plan will work?”

Garrus chuckled under his breath. He’d followed the mashed-faced merc through a few sketchy backways and alleys, keeping close enough to overhear but far enough to blend into the shadows. “Let’s give them a few more minutes,” Garrus instructed. He watched as his merc chatted with a krogan standing guard in front of an arms’ dealer store. The two exchanged something, and the merc went on his way again.

Garrus followed. It wasn’t long before the merc pulled into an alleyway and took up post outside the backdoor of Hyperdrive‒a nightclub. Garrus had been here once, back in his Arcangel days. The clientele was even scummier than the crowd that went to Afterlife, and they didn’t even serve Horosk.

“Looks like my guy’s headed your way, Garrus,” Kaidan said. Garrus ducked into a nearby alleyway with a clear view of Hyperdrive’s back door. After a few minutes, he saw the other merc rejoin mashed-face.

“They’re outside a nightclub. Looks like they’re waiting for something,” Garrus said.

“Probably my merc. He took a call on his omni-tool, but he’s taking his time browsing through a used armour stall. I guess he’s heard of Wrex,” Tali said.

“I don’t think a junked chestpiece can stop a krogan’s charge or a shotgun blast to the face, but best of luck to him,” Garrus scoffed.

After a few more minutes, Tali let them know that her merc was finally on the move again. He met up with the others in front of the nightclub, and Tali and Kaidan circled around to find Garrus in the alleyway.

“We don’t know for sure if the mercs took the bait, but Wrex could be in there,” Garrus said.

The mercs exchanged words with an elcor bouncer at the door, which took a while. The mashed-faced merc opened his omni-tool, and the elcor slowly stepped aside. The mercs disappeared through the door.

Garrus, Tali, and Kaidan made their way across the street. When they approached the elcor, it lethargically raised its head. “Polite. Welcome to Hyperdrive. The cover fee to enter the club is ten credits,” the elcor exhaled. Garrus transferred thirty credits to the elcor from his omni-tool. “Pleased. Enjoy your time in Hyperdrive,” the elcor said.

There was a joke in there somewhere about how ironic it was that an elcor worked at a place called Hyperdrive, but Garrus didn’t think the elcor would appreciate it.

Garrus opened the door, and electronic soundwaves and strobing lights overloaded his senses. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath‒and he got a lungful of smoke, sweat, and broken dreams. Once he acclimatized to the chaos, he stepped inside.

He led them down a hallway that opened onto a pulsing dancefloor. Turians, humans, asari, batarians‒they swarmed together, swaying to the fractured beat of the music. Garrus scanned the crowd, but as tall as he was, the sea of movement was too erratic to get a good look around. He glanced up and saw a balcony that wrapped around the second floor.

“I’m going to try and find the stairs,” Garrus shouted. Tali blankly stared at him and Kaidan frowned. Can’t hear you, he mouthed. Garrus leaned in closer and yelled, “Upstairs.”

Kaidan nodded and started searching for the way up. Tali pointed across the dancefloor. “Humans… by… bar… how…get?” Tali asked. Every other word drowned under sporadic bass surges.

Garrus looked to where she was pointing and saw two of the mercs they’d followed in here. They were headed towards the VIP lounge behind the bar.

Mashed-face was missing.

Garrus pointed at himself, then pointed up. “I’m going upstairs,” he said, then he pointed between her and Kaidan. “You two get to the bar.” He nodded towards the counter. Tali grabbed Kaidan’s wrist and started pulling him through the tangled dancers.

Garrus stalked around the dancefloor, scanning for any signs of Wrex, the third merc, or the stairs. Kaidan and Tali sidled up to the bar, looking as out of place and awkward as the hanar that was gyrating its tentacles all over some poor volus’s face on the dancefloor.

Garrus spotted the stairs in the corner of the room and headed that way, keeping a sharp eye on the bar. He climbed up, bumping into a human on her way down. She burped in his face and started giggling uncontrollably. Her breath smelled like apples and toilet water. “Nice,” he muttered under his breath.

At the top, he could feel the music writhing in the floor, but it was slightly muted. Easier to hear himself think. There were a few vultures up here, gazing down to find their next target.

But his target wasn’t some scantily-clad asari. His was a krogan.

He found a spot as far away from the others as possible. From the balcony, he could see the two mercs talking to a well-dressed human in the lounge. He had slicked-back black hair, a pointed nose, and a fabric flower pinned to his suit pocket. He sat in a booth with an asari draped over his lap, and other beautiful people gathered around, hanging off his every word.

A couple krogan stood guard at the entrance to the VIP area, but neither were Wrex.

Maybe Garrus’s plan didn’t work, and the mercs weren’t here for Wrex, and Garrus exposed his squad to this cess pool for nothing. Maybe making Garrus lead on this one was a mistake.

The muzzle of a gun pressed into Garrus’s back.

“Arcangel, we’ve been waiting for you,” a high-pitched voice cut through the deep, electronic beats. Garrus looked over his shoulder to see the mashed-faced merc.

“Arcangel? Sorry, I think you’ve got the wrong‒,” Garrus started, and the merc jabbed the gun deeper into his back. Fuck that. Garrus twisted and caught the merc off guard. The gun slipped, and Garrus swiped it out of the merc’s hand. He pointed it at his gut. “If you know who I am, then you also know how stupid that was.”

Mashed-face put his hands up in defeat. “H-hey man, I’m just h-here to bring you to the boss. H-he wants to see you,” he stuttered, his voice sharp and nasally. Garrus tried not to laugh. He really did.

“You sound like a space hamster,” he snickered.

Mashed-face mashed up his face in a frown. “H-hey, that’s uncalled for!” he whined, though it sounded more like a whistle.

Garrus cleared his throat. “Who’s this boss that wants to see me?” He was hoping it was Wrex.

The merc nodded towards the railing. “Achilles. He’s waiting for us down there,” he said. Garrus assumed it was the man he saw the other two mercs with.

“Why does he want to see me?” Garrus asked. Not that he believed the merc would be honest with him.

The merc slowly put down his hands. “We told him you were looking for Wrex,” he said.

“And?” Garrus prompted him to continue.

“And, we know where he is,” the merc said.

“Oh,” Garrus said and lowered the gun, “let’s go have a chat with Achilles then.”

…

Kaidan and Tali spotted Garrus and the merc the moment they came back down the stairs. Garrus gave a subtle headshake to hold them off. They watched warily as the merc led Garrus passed the bar into the VIP lounge.

As soon as they crossed the threshold, Garrus saw the shimmer of a barrier bend and fold around him. The music suddenly dulled, replaced by soft chatter and clinking glasses.

“There,” mashed-face nodded towards the well-dressed man’s table.

As they approached, the man shifted the asari off his lap and stood. He lifted his hand in greeting, then motioned for Garrus to have a seat beside the asari. Garrus didn’t want to know what kind of stains were soaked into the booth, so he didn’t take him up on the offer. Instead, he slapped the merc’s gun down on the table and crossed his arms.

“Next time you send someone after me, send a professional,” he growled.

The man’s thin lips pinched into a half smile. “Professional or not, he got your attention,” he said. He sat back down and snapped his fingers, and the asari grabbed a glass off the table and lifted it to his lips. After a few sips, he waved her off. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Arcangel. I’m quite a fan of your work,” he said.

“Can’t say the same. I have no idea who you are,” Garrus said.

“Achilles. I own this club, and a few others like it. As you can see, business is keeping quite well,” Achilles explained.

Garrus glanced at a small baggie on the table. Red sand. No wonder the dancefloor was so chaotic. They were all dusted up on drugs. “If you’re offering me an investment opportunity, I’m not interested,” Garrus said.

Achilles leaned forward, steepling his fingers together under his chin. “No, no. I invited you here because I heard you and I share a common enemy. Wrex Urdnot,” he said. Garrus tightened his mandibles, playing the part. “I’d like to offer you a deal. Whatever the bounty is, I’ll triple it, if you bring Wrex to me instead.”

“That’s a lot of creds. How do I know you’ll make good on your end of the bargain?” Garrus asked.

Achilles laughed, and the rest of his lackeys laughed with him. “I’m a man of my word. You bring me Wrex, and you can name the price,” he said.

What was the going rate for bounties nowadays? Ten thousand? Fifty? “Five hundred thousand,” Garrus blurted. He hoped Wrex’s head was worth half a million creds.

Achilles’s eyes narrowed. “Very well, five hundred thousand creds. And, in good faith, I’ll give you one hundred upfront. You’ll get the rest when you bring him to me. Alive,” he opened his omni-tool and Garrus’s chimed with the transfer.

One hundred thousand creds. Just like that. The rest of Achilles's entourage murmured excitedly, looking impressed.

“It’s a deal then. Tell me where he is and I’ll collect him,” Garrus said.

“Aria sent him after a small-time merc band. They’re set up in a warehouse behind the main market. I’ll mark it for you on your omni-tool,” Achilles wove his omni-tool and Garrus opened his to accept the coordinates. “Kill the mercs if you want, but bring Wrex to me alive. Otherwise, the deal’s off.”

“Noted,” Garrus said. He wasn’t sure why Achilles wanted Wrex, but a good bounty hunter wouldn’t ask. Instead, he grabbed the gun off the table and slapped it back into mashed-face’s hand, then he made his way out of the VIP lounge. He nodded at Tali and Kaidan, signalling for them to follow him out of the club.

They didn’t bother wrestling their way through the dancers again. They met up at the emergency exit and ducked outside. The moment the door closed, Garrus’s head stopped pounding. “I found out where Wrex is. We should head over before he’s on the move again,” Garrus said.

“Who was that? In the VIP lounge,” Kaidan asked, then clarified.

“I’ll explain everything on the way,” Garrus said.

He hoped Wrex hadn’t gotten to the mercs yet. Garrus wanted to join in on the fun.

Chapter 7: The hell that comes with it

“They could’ve made it a little harder to find,” Garrus said glumly. They followed Achilles’s directions and found the warehouse tucked behind a vorcha encampment. Two mercs stood guard outside, faded Eclipse emblems patched onto their shoulders.  “They’re basically holding signs that say, ‘shoot me, I’m a bad guy’.”

“You sound disappointed,” Kaidan remarked, side-eying Garrus.

“These mercs have no subtlety. Back in my day,” Garrus started, then paused. “Great. I officially sound like my father. Do me a favour and shoot me if I start reminiscing about the ‘good ol’ war days’.”

“Can do,” Kaidan smirked. “So, what’s the plan?”

They’d hunkered down in an abandoned tent with a clear view of the warehouse. So far, there hadn’t been any movement. Most of the windows were shuttered, but some were broken, giving them a fractured view inside. It seemed empty, but the two goons outside weren’t guarding an empty warehouse. Unless they were, and Achilles had sent them on a wild pyjak chase.

Either way, Garrus didn’t want to go in blind. In his simulations, he could take his time scouting the zone and set himself up on the highest perch. Enemies wouldn’t start spawning until he initiated it. He was in complete control.

But this? This wasn’t a simulation. It wouldn’t be clean or easy. No pausing. No resetting. No extra lives.

No Shepard VI to back him up.

“We need to find a way in to see what we’re dealing with,” Garrus said. “They may look like run-of-the-mill mercs, but I don’t want to risk our lives by underestimating them.”

“I’m glad to hear you don’t want to risk our lives. I’ve had my fill of suicide missions,” Kaidan mused.

Garrus peered through Black Widow’s scope. They could take out the guards at the entrance, but that would cause a scene and raise the alarm. They could try to slip through one of the windows, but they didn’t know what was waiting for them on the other side.

If Garrus was alone, he could easily sneak in unnoticed. But he wasn’t alone. And he wasn’t going to leave Tali and Kaidan behind.

They had to get closer, without being seen.

“Any ideas?” Garrus asked.

Tali lifted her arm and tapped a command into her omni-tool. Something whirred, and a small drone detached itself from her belt. It drifted into the air between them. She pressed a few more buttons and the sphere of light around the drone blinked out. “Recon mode. I installed a jamming mod so it’ll blackout their radar, even if they have combat sensors,” she explained.

“Well, that settles it,” Garrus said, patting her on the shoulder, “you’re my favourite.”

Tali laughed. Kaidan pretended to be offended. Garrus reminded them that they were supposed to be quiet. The vorchas in the tent beside them chittered and rolled their eyes at the quarian, human, and turian who thought they were being subtle.

Tali sent the drone in and sparked up its vid feed on her omni-tool. She navigated it through one of the broken shutters and guided it through the warehouse.

“Shipping containers. Lots and lots of shipping containers,” Tali reported.

“Good, we can use them for cover,” Garrus said.

She tilted her omni-tool towards Garrus so he could see the drone’s feed. “Armed mercs inside. Unarmed workers too, unloading the cargo.”

Garrus tapped the holo screen and zoomed in on one of the mercs’ holsters. “Shit. Armour-piercing rounds,” he said, recognizing the loadout. “With rounds like that, they’ll be shooting to kill.”

“Good thing we didn’t storm the front doors then,” Kaidan said. He leaned over Tali’s shoulder, frowning down at the screen. “What kind of cargo is it?”

Tali scoffed. “I’ll give you one guess,” she said, gliding her drone closer to one of the containers.

“Red sand,” he sighed.

“Red sand,” Tali confirmed.

“A supply like that could dust up this entire district for months,” Garrus puzzled it out. “Maybe Achilles is planning on swooping in once we kill the mercs. And we can’t have that.”

“Yes, swooping is bad,” Tali said.

Garrus chuckled. “Exactly. Plus, if Achilles is after Wrex, he’s probably really after Aria,” he said.

“Speaking of Wrex, there are too many mercs in there for him to take alone,” Kaidan said.

“Agreed. We should try to intercept him before he-,” Garrus started, but a commotion outside the warehouse interrupted him.

“I’m here to see Pitne For,” Wrex’s voice boomed. Garrus, Kaidan, and Tali looked at each other. They looked to the front door to see Wrex looming over the guards. They quickly opened the door and escorted him inside.

“Damn,” Garrus cursed. “Pull the drone back, find a window for us to climb through. We’ll have to sneak in while Wrex has them distracted.” He started towards the side of the warehouse, keeping low to the ground. Tali stepped in line with him, glancing down at her omni-tool’s drone feed.

She motioned towards one of the windows on the first floor, near the back. Garrus and Kaidan followed her lead. As they reached the window, Tali’s drone zoomed through the opening in the broken shutters and landed on her hip.

Garrus vaulted through first. The moment he cleared the window, Tali followed, then Kaidan. They landed in a storeroom full of crates, with a clear view down the hall through an open doorway. The hallway was empty, but they could hear voices just around the corner.

Garrus signalled for his team to take cover. They tucked themselves behind the crates and waited for the voices to pass. Two mercs appeared around the corner, pausing in front of the storeroom.

“See who’s knockin’ heads at the front door?” One of them asked as they peeked into the room. Garrus ducked a little lower, hoping they couldn’t see the tip of his crest over the crates.

“Yeah, Wrex. Aria probably found out about the shipments Pitne’s been selling behind her back. I wouldn’t want to be him right now,” the other answered.

“Fuckin’ volus. He doesn’t pay us enough to stand in between him and Urdnot’s shotgun. If he starts shootin’ this place up, I’m sneakin’ out the back,” the first one grumbled.

“And I’ll be right behind you. I heard Achilles pays pretty well, maybe he’d hire us,” the second one snorted.

“Yeah, the devil pays pretty well for your soul. But it sure as shit ain’t worth the hell that comes with it,” their voices sounded further and further away. Garrus hazarded a quick glance and saw them disappear around the next corner.

“Pitne… why does that name sound familiar?” Tali asked.

The name had itched Garrus’s brain too. “Pitne For,” Garrus mused, recalling what Wrex said at the front door. “He was a dealer back on Illium, during our Cerberus days. Shepard found out about his smuggling operation and handed him over to the authorities. They arrested him, but I guess he slipped through the cracks when the reapers hit. Makes sense he’d find his way to Omega. Let’s keep moving.”

They stepped through the halls of the warehouse carefully, sending Tali’s drone ahead to scout their path. They had to double-back a few times to dodge roaming mercs, but they were able to make it to the main bay without getting spotted.

Once they found their way there, Garrus scanned the room. He counted two guards at every entrance, a handful of bay workers, a couple of low-grade LOKI mechs, and Wrex, looming at the front door with his arms crossed. “Where’s Pitne? I don’t have all day,” he grumbled.

Tali tapped Garrus’s shoulder and pointed towards a maintenance ladder that led up to the warehouse rafters. He nodded, holstered Black Widow, then grabbed hold of the cold, iron bars. As he climbed up the rungs, Tali and Kaidan hid amidst the warehouse clutter.

At the top of the ladder, a small platform overlooked the entire bay. Garrus flattened down, pulled out Black Widow, and scoped the warehouse from his new vantage point. He spotted a few more mercs playing cards in a makeshift lounge near the back of the bay. He also saw a volus–Garrus recognized him, Pitne For–waddling down a set of stairs, flanked by three well-armed guards.

“Wrex is up front and it looks like Pitne’s headed there too. See how close you can get, but stay low,” Garrus said quietly over his squad’s secure channel. He glanced down and caught a glimpse of Kaidan’s head as he bobbed behind a container. He tracked them as they closed the distance, directing them around the mechs and guards.

Suddenly, two of the workers peeled off from the main crew and ambled towards Tali and Kaidan’s hiding spot.

“Hold up. You’ve got two workers headed your way. I’ll let you know once they’ve passed.”

The workers–a young human and salarian–seemed to be caught in deep conversation, distracted enough. But, as they passed, the salarian suddenly looked over to where Garrus had last seen Kaidan. The workers stopped, and Garrus wrapped his finger around Black Widow’s trigger.

The salarian knelt between the crates and reached behind his back. Garrus stopped breathing. He could feel his heartbeat in his hands as he slowly squeezed the trigger…

… then stopped.

The salarian pulled out a small bag, and the human glanced around nervously. They huddled close together and huffed red sand from the salarian’s palm.

Garrus sighed. After a couple snorts, the human gave his head a hard shake and elbowed the salarian. The two of them wiped their noses and swerved back to the walkway between the crates. They stumbled off and out of sight.

“You’re clear,” Garrus whispered.

He turned his attention back to the front door, where Pitne finally arrived to greet Wrex. Garrus couldn’t hear what the volus was saying, but Wrex’s voice was explosive.

“I’m not one for words, Pitne,” Wrex cracked his neck, “you know what you did. I’m the consequence.”

Pitne waved his hands, trying to reason with Wrex.

Garrus smirked. With Wrex, there was no reason. Just bone breaking and ass kicking.

“Didn’t ask,” Wrex cut Pitne off. Pitne huffed and flailed his hands frantically. “Don’t care,” Wrex grumbled. Pitne threw his hands down and shook his head. He wobbled backwards, and three guards stepped forward to surround him. “I guess we’re doing this the fun way then, heh,” Wrex smiled.

The guards raised their weapons. Wrex lowered his head and braced his shoulder.

“Showtime,” Garrus said, just as Wrex crashed through the guards with a crunch. The other guards in the warehouse snapped to attention and started to swarm through the bay. “Tali, intercept the mercs with your drone. They’ll be in your line of sight in three, two…” he counted down.

On one, Tali’s drone flew out from the shipping containers and collided with the merc leading the charge. It expelled a shockwave that jolted the merc off his feet. He crumpled to the ground, and the mercs following him slid to a halt. “What the-,” one of them said. The snap of Kaidan’s heavy pistol cut them off.

All hell broke loose as the mercs started wildly firing. The workers fled with their heads down, but a few of them were blasted in the chaos. Clouds of red sand kicked up in the air, choking the bay in a toxic mist.

“Kaidan, helmet up,” Garrus ordered as he activated his Kuwashii visor. The built-in sensor tracked the mercs’ heat signatures, so he could see them through the haze.

Kaidan flipped on his helmet just as the sand billowed over him. “Thanks. That could’ve been bad,” he said. Kaidan’s biotics were powerful enough without the amp he’d get from the red sand. Plus, with his L2 implants, the high and subsequent hangover would probably be ten times more painful.

“Bad or hysterical? It’s all about perspective,” Garrus said.

“Jerk,” Kaidan snipped back.

“Rragh!” Wrex suddenly let out a battle cry that shook the bay. While he slammed Pitne’s guards into the ground, Tali and Kaidan shot blindly at the mercs joining the fray. Garrus called out shots, acting as their eyes and guiding them through the fight. He emptied a few clips of his own, and Black Widow hummed her approval. Her recoil hit harder than he remembered, but it’d been a while since he took her for a spree. He felt every shot reverberate through him, and it felt good.

Damn good.

“Kaidan, there’s a salarian to your right. Hit them with a reave, their shield’s about to go down,” Garrus commanded. He popped the salarian’s shield with a concussive shot just as Kaidan reaved them. The salarian’s veins burned bright orange and its skin smoked. It let out a guttural scream before its eyes melted and its body hit the floor. “Good, now pull back. They’re starting to circle around you.”

He sprayed cover fire while Tali and Kaidan drew back.

“How’s Wrex doing?” Kaidan huffed.

Wrex had pounded all three mercs into a pulp, and he was tracking Pitne through the bay, his shotgun leading the way. “He’s hunting. Tali, think you can patch me into Wrex’s omni?” Garrus asked.

“I could. But I’d rather do this,” Tali said. Garrus didn’t know what this meant, until Tali added, “Wrex, it’s Tali. Can you hear me?”

“Thought I saw a quarian drone,” Wrex’s voice boomed over the comms. “I can hear you. Don’t have time to chat though.”

“We aren’t here to chat either,” Garrus said. “Pitne slipped away from you. He’s upstairs. Looks like he ducked in to one of the offices.”

Wrex stopped dead in his tracks. “Vakarian? Didn’t you die a slow, bureaucratic death on Palaven?”

“I’m surprised you know what the word bureaucratic means,” Garrus chirped back.

“Heh. Well, shit. If you’re here, must be something big. Guess I should’ve returned Liara’s calls.” He said, then followed Garrus’s directions and headed upstairs after Pitne. As he disappeared, Garrus shifted his attention back to the fight below.

Little red lights bobbed through the cloud towards Tali and Kaidan.

“Mechs incoming. Tali, if you can hack them, you’ll pinch the mercs before they have a chance to surround you,” he said.

“I can’t see them, the sand’s too thick,” Tali said.

Unlike the mercs, the mechs didn’t rely on vision to find their targets. If they got close enough, they’d be able to scan for Tali’s omni-tool.

Garrus needed to clear the red sand. Fast.

He reached for his belt. “Dropping a proximity mine. Take cover!” Garrus warned them, then tossed the mine.

It landed at the mercs’ feet, blinked red three times as they scrambled for cover, then erupted. The explosion rattled through the entire bay. The force of it displaced the dust cloud, sending a spiral of red sand up towards the rafters.

As the cloud dispersed, Tali leaned out from her cover. She lit up her omni-tool and typed furiously, hacking through the mechs’ defense matrixes. They staggered to a halt as she bled out their internal code and replaced it with her own.

“Almost there,” Tali said. The mechs’ lights jittered, their limbs jolted. They powered down, and rebooted a moment later. In tandem, their heads twisted and they raised their guns at the mercs. They blasted them from behind. “Got it-,” she cheered, but her triumphant cry cut short in a gasp.

A bullet punched through her suit. Through her bone. She screamed and dropped behind a container.

Garrus nearly rolled off his perch as he swung Black Widow and fired in the direction of Tali’s shooter. He clipped the culprit–one of the warehouse workers. He must’ve grabbed a gun off one of the bodies.

Garrus hadn't anticipated that. He figured the workers were bystanders. Not necessarily innocent, but harmless.

He was wrong, and Tali's life was jeopardized because of it.

He fired another shot, hammering the worker into the ground. “Tali, talk to me,” Garrus commanded. His voice flanged, raw.

Static silence.

Garrus’s vision blurred. He cracked off a few more shots, but his hands were shaking. He missed every single one.

“Tali,” he pleaded. He couldn’t lose her too.

“I’ve got her, Garrus. She’s in bad shape, but I’ve got her,” Kaidan assured him.

“I’m coming down,” Garrus said. He slung Black Widow onto his back and scrambled to the ladder. He gripped both sides and slid all the way to the bottom. His knees rattled with the rough landing, but the adrenaline pumping through his veins kept him upright.

Kaidan met him at the bottom of the ladder with Tali draped over his shoulder. The bullet had torn through her thigh. Her eyes glowed faintly, and perspiration fogged the inside of her helmet. It looked like Kaidan had stemmed some of the bleeding with a strip of fabric, but blood still seeped from the wound.

“Get her out of here, now,” Garrus growled. Most of the red sand had settled, and the mercs were starting to get their bearings. Kaidan started to protest, but Garrus grabbed his assault rifle and pushed passed him. “Her suit won’t keep her alive forever. Get her back to the Illari as fast as you can. She needs more than medi-gel. She needs anti-biotics,” he commanded.

Kaidan nodded. “You’re right. I’ll get her there,” he said.

As he started to limp them away, Tali looked over her shoulder. She met Garrus’s eyes, and she saw the ghost in his gaze. The lust for justice–vengeance–that possessed him. He was going to blast a bigger hole through those mercs than they did to her.

He didn’t care how many more scars he earned doing it.

“Stay alive, Garrus. Shepard will want to see you,” she rasped.

Garrus blinked, and some of his edges softened. “Same to you,” he said. He waited until they disappeared before he stepped out onto the warehouse floor. The mercs finished dismantling the hacked LOKI mechs, then turned their attention to Garrus.

He smiled. “Alright, who’s first?”

Chapter 8: Still got it

“No volunteers? Really? No one wants a promotion for taking out the Archangel?” Garrus goaded. He stooped behind a forklift and scanned the warehouse–still a dozen mercs left, and the cloud of red dust had dissipated. Most of the mercs were crouched beside crates or slowly creeping forward. The rest were dusted out of their minds, slumped over, their bodies twitching with amped, erratic biotic energy.

Garrus mapped out each shot in his mind. He’d peek out and poke a hole through the closest one, then twist and snipe the merc that thought he was hidden but wasn’t. His foot gave him away, and once Garrus shot a toe or two off, he’d be out of commission. Then, he’d hurdle over the forklift and cut through the rest of the mercs. Like a damn hero.

A good plan. Too bad it didn’t work out the way he wanted it to.

Even with all the VI combat sims, he was stiff. When he leaned out from cover, he managed to get his first shot off, but the rifle’s recoil bumped him out of position for the next one. Before he could pull back, the mercs returned fire. Sparks hailed down from where their rounds sprayed astray and shredded into the warehouse supports.

He huddled back behind the forklift and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. Then two. And on three, he knew what he had to do.

He clipped on his armour-piercing rounds and made his move.

The lift’s controls were high up, but Garrus had reach. He stretched over the seat and turned the engine on, then wrenched the wheel, jammed the accelerator forward, and moved with the lift as it ploughed a path through the warehouse.

It rammed the frontline mercs, breaking their offensive assault. While their bodies and bullets battered against it, Garrus ducked in and out of cover, exchanging shot for shot. He stomped the mercs that staggered under the weight of the lift, then hammered them into the ground to make sure they stayed down.

He felt the sting of incendiary rounds grazing by, burning streaks through his armour and the lift’s hull. It began to spark, then smoke. He followed it for a few more strides then bailed behind a stack of crates.

There, he caught his breath. Counted his rounds. Heard the forklift crunch to a stop.

Mercs circled the lift. The moment they got close enough, Garrus leaned out from cover and sparked an overload on it. The explosion knocked the mercs on their backs and broke open nearby barrels, kicking up a new red sandstorm.

Even though red sand didn’t affect turians the same as humans or volus, Garrus was starting to feel a tingle. A bad tingle.

He knuckled his chin and shook it off. He didn’t have time for a drug-induced trip.

Not right now, anyways.

Garrus started towards the stairs to the upper level. That’s the last place he saw Wrex, and the best place to secure high ground. He could hear mercs moving through the warehouse, following in the footsteps of his destruction, calling out to each other and coordinating their next move. In a couple moments, they’d close in on him.

Through the red sand, he could see the stairs. He was almost there.

And then a crate smashed into him. He hit the ground, hard. He rolled onto his back, ready to faceoff against whoever just tossed it at him–then realized he was hallucinating.

He had to be hallucinating.

A jumble of crates and gear floated above him, as if Omega’s Zero-G had suddenly stopped. Workers and mercs were up there too, laughing or screaming hysterically, or alternating between both.

One merc crouched at the centre of this mess, clutching his head. His biotic implants burned bright blue at his temples, searing through skin. He screamed in agony, clawing at the implants as a singularity ripped open overhead.

Garrus tried to scramble back, but as the vortex grew, he was dragged up in its pull. The first pulse punched the breath out of him, the next staggered him. His body spasmed, then slackened, and his rifle slipped out of his hands.

He gently floated towards the singularity. The fog of red sand rolled off his body as he slowly rose above it. The hysteria silenced as more and more of the dusted-up mercs got caught in the pull, paralyzing them under a crushing gravitational tide.

No more screaming, no more laughing.

Only pain.

“There! Archangel’s trapped in the singularity,” someone called out from below. A flurry of movement sent up puffs of red sand all around. Garrus tried to reach for his rifle, but his muscles had locked up. He was vulnerable until the singularity ended–if it ended–and even then, he was still outnumbered.

Some of the more eager mercs charged in too quickly, and their yelps of surprise were cut short as the singularity pulsed and their rigid bodies were lifted into the air. The following mercs learned from their mistakes and kept a safe distance from the vortex. They circled Garrus, surrounding him on all sides.

Screw Omega. Screw Aria and Achilles. And especially screw the Kenzo District. After everything, he didn’t think he’d end up back here, on the edge of death in the scummiest slum the galaxy had to offer. But maybe this was where he’d always been destined to die, if Shep hadn’t saved him a lifetime ago. All he needed now was a rocket to the face, and fate would be appeased.

He heard their clips click and braced himself.

A blur of motion below, a grunt, then, suddenly, the singularity snapped closed. Garrus plummeted, and his ribs broke his fall. And cracked in a couple of places, too, by the sound they made on impact.

The rest of the debris and bodies dropped, dispersing the last of the red sand with a burst of air. Now, he could see what happened.

Pitne For groaned, heaped on top of the merc that had lost control of the singularity. Wrex stood next to them, shooting anyone that dared to move. Once he was satisfied, he holstered his shotgun, leaned back, and crossed his arms, smirking.

“Impressive, for a run-down, retired turian,” Wrex remarked, gazing around the room at the total destruction. Not a single crate or merc was left unscathed. “Nice to see you haven’t lost your touch.”

Garrus picked up his rifle and dragged himself to his feet, trying to catch his breath against probably-broken ribs. “Nice of you to finally join us,” he panted.

“What, and take away your punching bags? Looked like you needed to smash a few skulls,” Wrex replied. He glanced down at the still-twitching bodies and laughed. “Nothing a headbutt can’t fix,” he stopped laughing, “or break.”

“Did you headbutt Pitne?” Garrus nodded towards the volus, still splayed over the merc’s body. Pitne groaned.

“Heh. Yeah. He’s still breathing, which is more than the rest of these pyjaks can say,” Wrex grunted.

Garrus grimaced. As the adrenaline ebbed, his face numbed.

These Eclipse mercenaries weren’t innocent. They would have killed him, eagerly, given the chance. They’d probably stolen, terrorized, murdered–and much worse. They deserved every single round Garrus hammered into them. And more.

So why were his hands shaking?

“You gonna start crying Vakarian?” Wrex grunted.

Garrus straightened up, tried to shake out his shoulders, and winced. “Nah, just needed to catch my breath,” he said. Wrex eyed him flatly but didn’t comment. He lugged Pitne over his shoulder and headed for the door.

“Let’s hail a shuttle. I’ve got a package to deliver. We’ll talk on the way.”

…

“So, what’s the story? Why did Aria send you after these guys?” Garrus asked. They trudged through the district towards the shuttle dock. Most of the residents cast their eyes away from Wrex the moment they realized who he was. A few of the vorcha chattered at him, trying to incite a fight.

Wrex ignored them.

“Pitne was smuggling a quarter of his shipments to a rival club owner,” Wrex explained.

“Let me guess. Achilles?” Garrus deadpanned.

“Yep,” Wrex confirmed. “He approached Aria a while ago with a business proposition. Emphasis on proposition. Heh heh. But she’s Omega’s pirate queen, and she isn’t looking for someone to rule her kingdom, or bed, with.”

“Interesting. He propositioned me, too, but it wasn’t nearly as… propositional. Offered to pay half a million creds if I brought you to him. Damn shame we have a flight to catch,” Garrus said.

“Bastard. I’m worth at least a million,” Wrex grumbled. “After I turn Pitne in, we should pay Achilles a visit. Show him what a real krogan is worth.”

Garrus’s heart hitched in his throat. “Did Liara tell you why we’re here?” he asked, voice flanging. He didn’t want to waste any more time with side quests. The only mission that mattered was finding Shepard.

“She left me a couple messages but didn’t get into the details. Figured it wasn’t that important, but if she managed to haul your ass out of retirement, then it’s gotta be something good,” Wrex said, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “If it’s reapers or rachni, just point my gun in the right direction.”

“It’s Shepard,” Garrus replied.

Wrex slowed to a stop. “Shepard?” He turned to measure Garrus with a conspiratorial look. “If it’s another Cerberus clone, count me out. Don’t know if I can stomach hunting down another Shepard, not after we lost the real Shep.”

Garrus’s blood turned to ice. He hadn’t even considered there could be another clone of Shepard out there. It made his heart yearn. His skin crawl. A clone was a clone, after all. Like fragments of a code that never quite lived up to the real thing.

But a fragment, nonetheless.

“Not a clone,” Garrus gritted, “our Shepard. Liara’s building-…” he paused. They were nearly at the shuttle platform, but there were still prying eyes and ears tracking them. He cleared his throat. “Well, I can tell you more back on the Illari. But we have to get to the ship first. Let’s dump Pitne on Aria’s doorstep and leave the pirate queen to deal with Achilles on her own. I’m sure she’d have a blast biotically-dick punching him back into whatever hole on Omega he crawled out of.”

Wrex snorted his agreement, then called a shuttle, tossed Pitne in the back, and motioned for Garrus to drive. After Garrus scrambled in, Wrex hoisted himself in after. The shuttle dipped and strained under his immense size, and the hatch whined sharply as it closed. Once he was settled, Garrus eased the throttle forward.

For a moment, Garrus’s vision spun. He quickly gave his head a shake, and, after a few wobbly afterimages, his vision set itself right again. It was then that he noticed his hands were pretty big, and he only had three fingers.

Strange.

“You okay Vakarian?” Wrex asked.

Humans and asari had five fingers on each hand, quarians had three, krogan had–Garrus glanced at Wrex’s hands–three. But… did thumbs count as fingers? And what about hanar? Hanar didn’t have hands or fingers. Just tentacles. Tentacles, what a funny word.

“Peachy,” Garrus chuckled. He activated autopilot.

“Alright,” Wrex finally said, after what felt like hours. How hadn’t they reached Afterlife yet? Garrus checked the nav and saw that they’d only just left the Kenzo District. This was going to be a long ride. “We’ll drop Pitne off, let Aria know that Achilles made a play for me, and then we’ll head to Liara’s ship. If it’s about Shepard, I won’t ask any more questions,” Wrex said.

Garrus hummed. “Good. I was afraid I’d have to knock you on your ass and drag you there myself.”

Wrex snorted. “In your dreams, turian.”

…

Kaidan joined them at the shuttle bay outside Afterlife, sweat and blood still streaked across his forehead. “Before you ask, Tali’s fine. Her envirosuit sealed off the tear, so the contamination was isolated. The doc medi-gelled the wound and pumped her full of antibiotics. She’ll be okay,” he reported.

Garrus let out a breath he’d been holding since they left him at the warehouse.

“Thanks, Kaidan. For keeping her safe. I owe you one,” Garrus exhaled. Kaidan nodded at him.

“If you’re done, we’ve got a job to finish,” Wrex interrupted.

Kaidan smirked, “It’s good to see you too Wrex. Lead the way.”

Wrex grumbled and grabbed Pitne. The volus was conscious now, stumbling on his feet as Wrex dragged him along. “What… pretty elbows… you have,” Pitne gibbered, drool dribbling from his suit’s breather.

“Red sand?” Kaidan asked.

“Red sand,” Garrus confirmed. The back of his own neck throbbed, and black speckles blurred his left eye. Even if it didn’t affect turians the same way, he’d inhaled enough red sand to knock an elcor on its ass. He didn’t know how he, or Pitne, were still standing. He didn’t even remember landing the shuttle.

Wrex blew by the bouncer, Pitne in tow, “The human and turian are with me.” The bouncer stepped aside, bowing his head respectfully as they passed.

The tunnel leading to Afterlife pulsed, pressing against Garrus’s skull. The lights burned bright and loud, and the beat of the music drilled against his brain. He closed his eyes, and when he reopened them, he was standing in front of Aria.

Time had lapsed. He didn’t know where Wrex or Pitne were, but Kaidan loomed nearby.

“I’m impressed, Vakarian. Or, after what you did in that warehouse, do you prefer Archangel?” her voice was too low, her eyes too black. She smiled, and her lips curled into swirls that whirled endlessly into the creases of her cheeks.

Yeah. If it wasn’t obvious before, he was definitely high.

“Uhh,” he stuttered, cleared his throat. He glanced at Kaidan, and Kaidan mouthed something to him. Garrus mouthed something back, but he didn’t know what he was trying to say. Something about space hamsters and the Enkindlers.

Kaidan’s face paled.

“When you’re done doing whatever it is you’re doing with Liara, I could use a turian like you on Omega. Wrex is my right hand, but the things you could do as my left…” she mused, her eyes growing ever darker.

“Uhh?” he swallowed.

Kaidan clapped him on his back. “He’s flattered, really, but we’re just here for Wrex. So, if you could just,” he tried, but Aria lifted her hand.

Garrus wasn’t sure, but he was pretty sure he could see her fingertips vibrating through all the colours of a rainbow. “Let you go? I don’t think so. Wrex is still interrogating Pitne, and I’m having too much fun,” she quirked her brow at Garrus.

Garrus felt the floor suddenly shift beneath him, but he caught himself on Kaidan’s shoulder. “I… uhh,” Garrus started. Can’t feel my feet, he wanted to say, but his tongue suddenly disappeared. He didn’t know where it went, but he couldn’t find it, even when he slipped his fingers into his mouth to feel for it.

“Okay, time to go,” Kaidan grabbed his wrist and started pulling him away. “Tell Wrex we’ll meet him on the Illari,” he said, leading Garrus down the stairs before Aria could stop them. They bumbled through the dancefloor, scrambled out of the club, and staggered towards the docking bay. “You’re totally high right now, right?” Kaidan asked.

“High? Me?” Garrus asked, voice pitched an octave too high. Kaidan sighed. “Absolutely not. Okay, definitely. Probably a little bit high.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Kaidan chuckled. “Let’s get you back to the Illari.”

“Okay,” Garrus agreed.

Time lapsed again, and when he reoriented himself, they were standing in front of his room. It took a few tries, but Garrus finally managed to hit the right button and open the door. As soon as it slid open, he smiled, patted Kaidan’s shoulder, then face-planted onto his bed.

“Garrus? Garrus?” He heard Liara’s voice, muffled through his pillow. “Should I call the doctor?”

When had Liara joined them? Garrus didn’t know, but her voice echoed and stretched on for eternity. He embraced it.

“Nah, the red sand should wear off… eventually. I say we tuck him in and let him ride this one out,” Kaidan replied.

“I’m fiiiiine,” Garrus said. He felt great. Better than great. But also terrible. Worse than terrible.

“What happened on Omega?” Liara asked, gently stroking Garrus’s crest. He sighed, content.

“I’ll fill you in,” Kaidan said. And then suddenly, Liara and Kaidan were gone, and Garrus was alone. He buried his face in his pillow and let the red sand dust away every thought.

…

Achilles poured himself a splash of Thessia Red, vintage 47–his father’s favourite. One bottle cost him a small fortune and a few favours, but he was willing to pay any price for a taste of nostalgia. He swirled the scarlet wine in its pristine prismatic glass, savouring the smoky and oak scent.

He stood in his office, staring down at his club through a one-way mirrored window. He’d resurrected Hyperdrive from his father’s funeral ashes, scraping together what little scraps were left of his father’s operations.

As a nightclub, it did well. As a front for his other more illicit activities, it did even better.

He had taken a risk when he approached Aria. He made it as far as he had because he’d remained under her radar. But it was only a matter of time before she learned of Pitne For’s double-dealing. The volus was messy, weak. He’d leak their arrangement sooner or later, and so Achilles took a calculated risk.

One that could still pay off, if he played it right.

“Sir, I have an update on Archangel and Wrex Urdnot,” his high-pitched henchman said, bowing his head as he entered the office. “It seems that, well… Archangel’s gone. And he took Wrex with him.”

Achilles raised the Thessia Red to his lips. “Excellent. Let’s begin preparations, shall we?”

Chapter 9: Promises and probabilities

“Rise and shine sleeping beauty,” Kaidan said.

Garrus glowered at him, half his face plastered in his pillow. His skin felt tight and hot, and his stomach was twisted up from the spiral the red sand sent him down. “I know forty-two different ways to incapacitate and kill someone with just my thumb. You sure you want to tango, Alenko?”

“Easy Garrus, just checking in. You’ve been knocked out for,” Kaidan checked his omni, “thirty-two hours. Doc came by a few times to administer medi-gel for those cracked ribs, and to check on you. All he said was, ‘yep, still high.’ Must’ve been quite a trip.”

Garrus groaned. “I haven’t felt this hungover since I graduated from the Academy. As tightly wound as C-Sec was, officers knew how to blow off steam off duty. But this? This is worse. Much worse,” Garrus grimaced. “Why does my mouth taste like chasca dung?”

Kaidan chuckled and casually leaned against the doorframe. “Not sure. Maybe it has something to do with that?” he nodded towards the empty cannister on Garrus’s desk.

Garrus groaned again, “Tali’s leftover hangover cure.” He scrubbed a hand over his mouth and sat up in his bed. He vaguely remembered stumbling out of his room at some point and drifting to the kitchen. Tali’s dextro-protein shake was all he could find, and red sand apparently gave Garrus the munchies. Desperate times, even more desperate measures. He’d chugged the thing in one gulp. He shuddered, still tasting it at the back of his throat. “How is she?” he asked, diverting his brain.

“She’s doing alright. They’ve got her quarantined in a clean room in the med bay, just as a precaution. Doc thinks she’ll be back on her feet in a few days,” Kaidan explained, easing some of Garrus’s anxiety. “Liara’s been worried about you. You should check in with her so she knows you’re still breathing. She’s in the council room on the main deck, when you’re ready.”

Garrus laid back down, rolled over, and pulled the blanket over his head. “Tell her I’ll see her in thirty-two more hours.”

“You’ve got one. After that, I’m letting her come get you,” Kaidan warned.

“Traitor,” Garrus mumbled.

…

“Greetings Garrus. You have an unread message at your terminal,” Glyph, Liara’s drone that she reappropriated from the shadow broker, greeted Garrus as he entered the council room.

“Thanks Glyph,” he said, passing the drone by. He’d already seen the message notification. It was from his sister. He wasn’t eager to read it.

The council room was bigger than Normandy’s war room, but it somehow felt smaller. Less significant. There was a holo in the centre of the room that rotated through the Illari’s systems, and a wall of monitors that Liara stood alone in front of, her hands clasped behind her back.

She glanced over her shoulder as he approached. “Garrus, I’m glad to see you’re okay. Please, join me,” she said.

Garrus stepped up beside her, scanning the screens. It was remarkable, how much information she still had access to, even with the relays down. She had a few dossiers displayed on Omega, Aria, and Achilles.

“This is the first I’ve heard of Achilles, and it worries me. From what I read in Kaidan’s report, he appears to be a big player on Omega. And none of my contacts have heard of him. It’s like he didn’t exist until two months ago when he first initiated contact with Aria,” she frowned, flipping through the dossiers. “I don’t think this is the last we’ll hear from him. I’ve asked Zaeed to keep an eye on the situation. He’ll let us know if Achilles makes another move.”

“Who cares if he does? He’s Aria’s pain in the ass now,” Garrus said impatiently.

“What’s worse than an enemy? An enemy you don’t see coming, like Saren and the reapers. Achilles may not be as dangerous, but we can’t afford to dismiss him entirely,” Liara replied. She closed the dossiers. “Thank you for retrieving Wrex. I’ve already debriefed him on the Crucible, and we’re traversing to its location now.” She swiped her hand, and the holo in the centre of the room swapped to the Crucible.

“Where is it?” Garrus asked.

“Hidden. After the first one disabled most of the relays, there are many who would fear another Crucible’s creation, and even more who would attempt to steal it for themselves. Since we don’t know why the first one activated the way it did, there’s a chance the same thing could happen again, even with our modifications and best intentions,” she explained.

“Hold on… are you saying this thing could destroy the last of the relays?” Garrus asked. He didn’t consider that, when Liara first told him about it. He was too wrapped up in the prospect of getting Shepard back. But, if the new Crucible deactivated the remaining relays, they’d all be cut off from each other. Indefinitely.

“It is… a possibility,” she confirmed.

“What’s more probable, us blowing up the final relays, or us fixing them and finding our girl?” Garrus asked as he studied the projection.

“Finding Shepard,” Liara said.

“Then it’s worth the risk,” Garrus replied.

“Agreed,” Liara said. They shared a small smile. “We should arrive in a few days. Take some time. Rest,” she reached over and squeezed his wrist. “Call your sister.”

“No rest for the Shadow Broker, hmm?” he asked. It didn’t surprise him that she was keeping tabs on him and his personal, private messages. Liara always burdened herself with too much–knowledge, responsibility, worry. She was overbearing and she often overstepped, and when Garrus was at his lowest low, she was there. Always. “Sure. I’ll tell her you say hi.”

The council room doors opened and a troop of asari marched inside, giving Garrus an opportunity to slip out while Liara addressed her crew. It was still odd to see her captaining a ship, but she wore it well.

After all, she’d learned from the best.

Garrus stalked the halls back to his room, mentally donning his armour. He’d hoped the letter he left for his sister would’ve been enough, but that was wishful thinking. Time to face the consequences.

…

“You’re an idiot, you know that? I can’t believe you left without saying goodbye,” Sol chastised.

Yes, Garrus did know he was an idiot. She humbled him quite often with that fact. “I’m sorry Sol. Something came up. Can’t really talk about it,” he paused. She scoffed, unimpressed. “How’s dad?” he asked.

“You know him. Pretending to be pissed, but he’s relieved you’re finally putting yourself back out there, wherever there is. And he’s worried about you. We both are,” she said, her voice softening.

“Nothing to worry about,” Garrus said. Even when he was on Palaven, they didn’t visit very often. After their mom died, it strained their already taut relationship.

Salarian doctors did everything they could, but there wasn’t a cure for what their mother had–Corpalis Syndrome. Unique to turians, and one of the rarest and worst ways to go. It burned away every part of her, immolating her brain with severe neurological degeneration. And it was a slow burn, drawn out through years of steady decline and devastating heartache.

Garrus didn’t even get to say goodbye. While the Normandy crew was storming the Collector base, dismantling the human reaper, Sol and their father were by their mom’s side as she took her final breath.

Sol resented him for not being there. Hell, he resented himself. But he couldn’t regret it. Not when what they accomplished that day gave the galaxy a chance to survive the invasion.

They all had to make sacrifices.

“In your letter, you mentioned this had something to do with Commander Shepard. And I know how hard it’s been for you since she… you know… but is there any chance you can tell me where you’re going? When you’ll be home?” Sol asked tentatively. She knew the answer.

“No. I’m sorry,” Garrus said quietly.

She sighed. “You always are.”

“If it’s any consolation, Liara’s with me. She says hi, by the way,” he tried. The two of them had developed an unexpected friendship, one based on mutual love and overbearance over Garrus’s life. “She’ll set me straight if I start slipping.”

“Damn right she will,” Sol laughed. “Strangely that does make me feel a little better.” There was a quiet pause, then a soft sigh. “Do what you need to do, but come back to us this time, okay? And I don’t mean the same way you came back after the reapers, because you didn’t. Not really.”

Garrus swallowed hard. “I…” he wanted to promise her that this was the closure he needed. That this final mission would patch up his heart and make him whole again. But the promise tangled in his throat, strangled by hope and heartache. “I’ll make it back. Alive.” He couldn’t promise much more than that.

“You always do,” she said. “Right. Well, stay safe. Shoot smart. And bring me back something nice, would ya?” Her typical sign off. Garrus smirked.

“Sure. I’ll be in touch when I can,” he said, then ended the call.

Garrus stared at his bedroom wall. A few days, Liara said. What was he going to do until then?

He crossed over to his desk and sifted through the drawers. An empty bottle of Horosk. Disappointing. His simulator. Tempting. The holo with Crucible’s schematics. Overwhelming.

After a moment, he reached for the holo. “Alright, let’s see what you’re made of,” he mumbled.

Chapter 10: The Crucible

“I think we can boost output by three-point-five-nine percent if we make these calibrations,” Garrus mused. “I know that doesn’t seem like much, but if we can open up an extra stream of power, we can subvert it into-”

“-Into the Crucible’s flight telemetry and mass data exchange matrix,” Tali finished his thought. She sat up in her med bay bed on the other side of a clear biotic barrier. The clean room she was in was bleach white and bare, leaving very little chance for bacterial contamination. She still wore her suit as an extra layer of protection, and Garrus could see where they’d patched up the bullet hole. Right thigh, just one inch shy of an artery. “If we can focus more energy there, then…” Tali trailed off.

“Then,” Garrus continued her train of thought, pulling his eyes away from her wound, “when we use the Crucible to reactivate the relays, we’ll have longer range and a more precise shot.”

Tali snorted. “So, you’ve turned the Crucible into a sniper rifle. Why am I not surprised?” she teased him. He smirked, proud of his work. “Have you shown Liara?”

“Nah, not yet. Still working through some final calculations. I’d love to get my hands on the thing and run some diagnostics, but I guess that’ll have to wait until we get there,” he sat back, scrolling through the Crucible’s system readouts. Based on the latest data, the structure was almost complete.

Not long now.

“I can’t wait to get out of this room,” Tali sighed. She sat back in bed and closed her eyes. “I’m going stir crazy.”

“You and me both,” Garrus said. He’d spent every waking moment over the last few days pouring over the Crucible’s architecture, looking for flaws, for reasons it wouldn’t work. But the more he delved into it, the more he could see why Liara was so optimistic.

The Crucible was a monolithic, multi-generational undertaking. At its core, it was a simple design. But, over thousands of life cycles, it had gained intricacies from each species that had attempted to build it. He could see where protheans had left their mark in every elegant curve that hid some higher function. Asari grace slanting through the gravity-defying architecture. Human ingenuity in every feature that shouldn’t work but somehow did.

And now, with a little help from Garrus, a touch of Turian military precision.

“It wasn’t your fault, you know,” Tali said. Without realizing it, Garrus’s gaze had wandered back to her wound. “I should have pulled back, but I pushed it,” she said quietly.

"No. I should’ve seen the shooter. I should’ve warned you,” he gritted.

Tali shook her head. “I wouldn’t have listened,” she said. “I was too focused on hacking the mechs. I got cocky, and careless, and if you had tried to tell me to disengage, I would have insisted that I could hack them before that bosh’tet pulled the trigger. And I still would have wound up here with a bullet hole and bruised ego.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I hear krogans find scars very attractive,” he said. She groaned and rolled her eyes, then they both bubbled over in laughter.

As they gathered their breath, they heard the Illari’s VI announce: “We have arrived in the Local Cluster, Sol System. Estimated time to destination is three hours and forty-nine minutes.”

“Keelah! Thank the ancestors,” Tali exclaimed. “We’re almost there.”

“I better start packing up then,” Garrus said, voice suddenly flanged raw. He wasn’t looking forward to seeing Earth again. Going back to the exact spot that he lost Shepard. It made the ache from the last twelve years feel so much more real. Harder to ignore.

“Just think,” Tali said, “we’re that much closer to finding Shepard.”

“Right,” Garrus replied. His chest was too tight. His hands shook. He wanted to share her hope, but he didn’t know if he could survive it. If this didn’t end with Shep back by his side…

He said goodbye and left the med bay, then returned to his room. There, he packed up his gear–Black Widow, his visor, and armour, now with a few more scrapes than before. Last, he lifted out the simulator. Set it on the desk. Sat on his bed and stared at it.

It felt wrong to bring it along. Wrong to leave it behind. It was a distraction. A fantasy. And he needed to be focused.

But he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t say goodbye to this piece of her. Not yet.

He tucked the simulator into his bag, then slid his bag under his bed. He thumbed through the Crucible’s schematics for a couple more hours, turning the three-point-nine-five percent in four-point-six-seven, more than enough to turn their long shot into a bullseye.

In the midst of making minor tweaks to his calculations, the ship’s VI disrupted his stream of thought, “We are approaching the destination. Arrival is imminent.” Garrus’s heart leapt into his throat.

He wandered out of his room to the observatory, ready to face the Crucible head on. See the creation that saved them and shattered him. But he wasn’t the only one eager to see it.

As the observatory doors slid open, a wave of anxious chatter rose over him. Half the crew cramped themselves inside the domed room, chatting excitedly. Even though Garrus towered over most of them, he could barely glimpse the viewing window and stars beyond.

He turned to leave. A heavy hand on his shoulder halted him.

Wrex grinned, turned Garrus back towards the room, then bellowed, “Krogan coming through.” The cramped space got even more claustrophobic as the rest of the crew squeezed together to make space for them. Wrex kept pressing in until he and Garrus stood at the centre, blocking the view for anyone unlucky enough to be behind them.

“Maybe we should-,” Garrus started, waving towards the back corner, but Wrex grunted.

“Get closer? I like the way you think Vakarian,” Wrex interrupted, then pushed even deeper until they loomed at the window. There were a few disgruntled mutters, but the crew settled in around them quickly, all of them either too afraid of Wrex or too excited for the Crucible to hold a grudge.

Garrus stared out at the stars, orienting himself in the human’s solar system. He expected to see the white-and-blue marble of Earth, or the pale speck of their moon, but instead, gazed out at a planet he didn’t recognize. It was ghostly white, with a wash of orange that looked like rust crusting on top.

“Pluto,” Kaidan said. He stood behind a couple of asari, with Rahna at his side. When he saw Garrus and Wrex, he politely passed through to them, tugging Rahna along with him. “It’s a fringe planet. One of the best places to hide something like the Crucible, no one ever comes out this far,” he explained.

“It’s pretty small for a planet,” Garrus observed.

“Well, it’s a dwarf planet. But it’s definitely a planet. Not a moon,” Kaidan said defensively.

“Come on Garrus, size doesn’t matter,” Rahna smirked. Garrus chuffed out a laugh.

“I guess that’s why you’re with Alenko,” he volleyed back. Kaidan rolled his eyes, but smiled, and wrapped his arm around Rahna’s shoulders, nudging her closer. She leaned into his embrace, her eyes closing as she nestled into his neck.

Garrus ignored the ache in his chest and turned back towards the window. As the Illari slowly drifted around Pluto, a massive structure rotated into view, blotting out stars.

The Crucible.

The room shuddered to silence as everyone let out a collective breath.

“You sure size doesn’t matter?” Garrus asked, taking in the behemoth that was the Crucible. With all the enhancements Liara’s team made to it, it seemed even bigger than the one they’d built over twelve years ago. More advanced, with added rings that spiraled around the shaft towards the bulbous sphere on top.

“Why does it have to look so…” Rahna trailed off. This was the first time she’d seen it, and she had the same thought the rest of them had when they originally saw the design.

“So phallic?” Kaidan finished her thought. She blushed. “Probably to make the rest of us feel inadequate.”

“Speak for yourself,” Wrex snorted. Rahna patted Kaidan’s arm consolingly.

“It is impressive,” she said. “I can’t believe Commander Shepard really used that thing to destroy the reapers. She must have been an incredible woman.”

Garrus froze. Must have been. Past tense. “She was,” Garrus said, voice hollow.

Kaidan sensed the sudden shift, and he squeezed Rahna’s shoulder. “She is. So incredible that she’s somewhere out there, saving some other galaxy from their monsters,” he tried to smooth it over, but it was too late.

With a grunted goodbye, Garrus waded back through the crowd, drowning in those three small words. He couldn’t breathe again until the observatory doors closed behind him, and he was alone in the hall.

…

The Illari docked on the Crucible half an hour later. Garrus was the first one off the ship. He headed directly for engineering, calibrations in hand for whoever was in charge.

Inside, the Crucible felt like any other space station. Metal hull, cold floors, and a labyrinthine system of hallways that all looked identical. The docking bay was at the bottom, and engineering was higher up, which meant there was a climb between Garrus and where he needed to go.

Luckily, there were elevators. He just had to find them.

After a few turns, backtracking, and backtracking some more, a passing asari took pity on him and guided him right to the elevator doors. “Engineering’s on level fifty-seven,” she smiled politely, then continued on her way. There were sixty floors total. He rode the elevator up, up, up, almost to the very edge of the elevator’s rails.

When the doors opened, he blinked. The engineering bay was massive, with swarms of workers bustling inside like a hive. Biotics lifted steel pillars into position, hefting them up so welders could fix them in place. Others unspooled thick wires, laying them under floor panels, creating an uninterrupted mesh of connection throughout the bay. Engineers ran diagnostics, medical personnel responded to minor mishaps and spills, sparks flew. There were humans, asari, salarians, turians, krogans, and quarians, all working together to recreate the Crucible.

This Tower of Babel, as Mordin Solus once called it. A biblical undertaking.

Once he got his bearings, Garrus asked around and eventually tracked down Sul’Fel vas Neema, a quarian from Tali’s vessel before the Normandy. He was the lead engineer, and he carefully looked over Garrus’s work, eyes lighting the same way Tali’s had when Garrus shared it with her.

“This is… brilliant,” he said, sifting through the notes. “I’ll make sure these adjustments are made.”

Garrus nodded, happy to contribute. It made him feel like he was finally doing something to help. “Let me know if there’s anything else I can do,” he said, but Sul’Fel was already walking away, immersed in his own work.

He considered following the quarian, eager for a distraction, but decided he’d only get in the way. Instead, he returned to the elevators and rode it down to the lower levels, where the crew of the Illari were settling in to their assigned living quarters. Tali greeted him when he arrived, back on her feet, though a bit stiff as she gave him a tour.

The living quarters were multi-level and packed tight. With a workforce as large as the Crucible’s, they didn’t have the luxury of privacy or personal space. Each floor had communal bunks, a coed bathroom, an exercise room, a small mess hall, and a recreational lounge. As they walked through it all, Garrus recognized all the faces from Illari’s crew.

And there was only one new face. An old one. Ancient, even.

“Javik?” Garrus paused.

The prothean and Liara stood together in the lounge, embracing. It took Garrus a moment to register it–their foreheads pressed together, their fingers interlaced. Javik’s other hand resting on Liara’s lower abdomen.

Pregnant. Liara was pregnant. And he hadn't even noticed.

Chapter 11: The suffering persists, but so do I

At the sound of his name, Javik’s eyes twitched towards Garrus, his hourglass pupils boring into him. “Garrus Vakarian,” he greeted, inching back from Liara. “They told me you crawled out from underneath whichever rock you were hiding. I did not believe them. I stand corrected.”

“Happy to correct you anytime,” Garrus said, gaze locked on Javik’s hand. He looked up at Liara and saw something there he failed to notice before. A glow in her azure eyes, a faint blush flushing her skin rosy-purple. A small bump beginning to round out her belly. “And to congratulate you?” He hadn’t even heard that she and Javik…

“Yes. You missed a lot under that rock,” Javik replied, reading Garrus’s expression. Liara’s smile pinched.

“Please,” she said, brushing her fingers against Javik’s cheek. He tilted his head, bowing his chin to her. A boulder softening under the warmth of the sun. “We have… a lot to discuss,” Liara started, but seemed to be at a loss for words. “I would have told you earlier-,” she continued. Then stopped. “Well, we are expecting. I’m five months along,” Liara confirmed, placing her hand over Javik’s. They exchanged a private smile, and Garrus looked away, suddenly keenly aware of the intimate moment he’d interrupted.

“They will have their mother’s heart and a prothean spirit,” Javik murmured, lifting Liara’s hand to his lips. He pressed a kiss into her palm. “And all the galaxy will tremble before them.”

“There it is,” Garrus said. “Alright, well, this has been great. But I should get back to… my rock.” He slowly backed out of the doorway. Javik didn’t take his eyes off Liara, but she gave Garrus a small, apologetic wave.

Out in the hall, Tali’s eyes smoldered with amusement. “Come on, I’ll show you our room,” she steered him down the hall.

“Our room?” Garrus asked.

“Yes. Yours, mine, Kaidan’s, Rahna’s, and Wrex’s. And a few others. We’re all bunking together,” she explained.

“Wonderful,” he said.

“Isn’t it?” she teased. They followed a few more hallways to their room, where Wrex was already lying down in a krogan-sized bunk. The other bunks were half the size, built into alcoves along the walls and stacked two high. Each bunk had drawers built-in underneath, an overhead light, and a privacy curtain.

But a curtain wouldn’t block out everything.

“Cozy,” Garrus assessed. “Which one is mine?”

Tali crossed the room and patted the bunk over Wrex’s. It was the only other bed built for a species with a larger stature, and, at 7-feet tall, Garrus would have to bend at the knees and hips to fit into any of the other bunks.

“Lucky me,” he said, and tossed his bag up to claim it. “Remind me Wrex, do you snore?” A rhetorical question. Wrex snored like a thresher.

“I don’t snore, turian,” he denied it, like he denied it back on the Normandy, after he shook the whole ship awake on his first night aboard. Joker just about turned the ship around to dump him back on the Citadel. But cooler heads prevailed, with a priority shipment of noise-cancelling earplugs ordered for the whole crew.

“Right. It’s just the ship vents settling,” Garrus quipped. Wrex grunted.

Tali sat down on her own bed, across the room from them. “Liara told me it’ll be a couple weeks before the Crucible’s ready,” she said, wringing her hands together. She was just as impatient as him, just as fidgety. Just as ready to fire up the Crucible and see what it could do. Where it could bring them.

“The lounge has a bar, right?” Garrus asked. Two weeks was too long. Horosk would help the days pass by, one blackout at a time.

“It does,” she answered hesitantly, then quickly pivoted the conversation. “Have you shared your calibrations with Liara?”

“Brought them to an engineer named Sul’Fel vas Neema,” he said.

“Sul’Fel is here?” she asked, voice pitched high.

“Yeah, know him?” he asked.

She cleared her throat. “Yes, I know him. Well, of him. His engineering skills were so advanced and sought after that the Admiralty Board exempted him from taking a pilgrimage, which is almost unheard of. He oversaw the installation of Thanix canons for the Migrant Fleet before the invasion, which not only helped us survive the heretic geth and reclaim our homeworld, but also gave us a fighting chance against the reapers.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re fangirling,” Garrus said.

Tali sputtered, scoffed, then leaned back too-casually in her bed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she tried to collect herself, but the mist beneath her mask was suddenly extra steamy.

Before he could prod her more, Kaidan and Rahna appeared in the doorway. When she saw Garrus, Rahna quickly looked away, making herself busy with her bag and bunk.

“Looks like your dream came true Garrus. What’s first, braiding my hair? Or waxing your crest?” Kaidan asked, oblivious to the awkward moment.

Commander Shepard must have been an incredible woman.

It still stung.

“Throwing up in my mouth,” Garrus answered. He avoided Rahna’s gaze as she tentatively looked at Kaidan. “I think I’m gonna take a pass on the slumber party this time, see if there’s anything strong enough to knock me out long enough to sleep through Wrex’s snoring.”

“I don’t snore,” Wrex grumbled again.

“Right, thanks for the reminder,” Kaidan said. He reached into his bag and passed a pair of earplugs to Rahna. “You’ll need these.” She smiled, accepted them, then returned to her bunk.

“I think I’m just going to… check in on engineering. See if they need my help,” Tali said.

Garrus side-eyed her. “Tell Sul’Fel I say hi,” he smirked. She hurried out, nearly bumping into another crew member as she left.

“Sul’Fel?” Kaidan asked.

“Tali’s crush, apparently,” Garrus answered. Gossip. They were gossiping about crushes now. “Damn, I guess this is a slumber party. Alright Alenko, grab your wax.”

Kaidan rolled his eyes and joined Rahna at her bunk, helping her settle in. Garrus didn’t linger. He wandered out to the lounge, directly to the inadequately-stocked bar. There was human beer and honeyed asari mead. Nothing that Garrus could, or would, drink.

He sighed, then sidled up on one of the bar stools anyways.

It wasn’t long before boredom beat out pride, and he thoroughly rifled through the drinks until he found one that wouldn’t flatline him in anaphylaxis. It smelled like oil and had a soapy aftertaste, but after the fifth glass, he couldn’t smell or taste it. Couldn’t really see straight, either. Made it hard to stumble back to his bunk, half-empty glass sloshing in hand.

He shoulder-checked the doorframe on his way through, earning an amused heh from Wrex, and a concerned frown from Kaidan. But Kaidan didn’t say a word. Just watched Garrus trip over to his bunk, then haul himself onto it, careful not to spill a single drop of his swill.

Once he was in, he pulled the curtain across and blocked out the rest of the world. He let his mind drift blissfully on a booze-fuelled tide, and, for a brief moment, felt content. He was on his way to find Shepard. Save her, like she’d saved him so many times. Two weeks? Two weeks was nothing compared to the lifetime they’d spend together.

Because when he found her, he’d never leave her side again. Not even if the galaxy was falling apart around them.

He almost fell asleep to that happy thought. Almost.

He felt it first. The rumble, erupting from beneath him. Then he heard it.

Wrex. Snoring.

Garrus grabbed his pillow and punched it against his ears, barely muffling the sound. His brain started throbbing, hangover coaxed into a premature appearance.

Two weeks. He could do it. For Shep. He gripped the pillow tighter.

Wrex snored again, and Garrus was positive a thresher was in the bunk below, mawing through metal. His only saving grace was Kaidan’s equally pained groan from across the room.

At least he wouldn’t suffer alone.

…

The curtain screeched open. “Get up,” Javik ordered.

“Go away,” Garrus suggested instead, and closed the curtain. He hadn’t slept. Between his pounding headache and Wrex’s snoring, Garrus was going to toss and turn through the next two weeks until exhaustion overtook him.

Javik had other plans. The prothean wrenched the curtain open and crossed his arms. “You are a warrior. Warriors do not sleep the day away,” he stated.

“I’m retired,” Garrus replied with a yawn.

“Warriors do not retire. They fight until their bodies break, or their enemies honour them with death. You are not broken, nor are you dead,” Javik said.

“Oh, I don’t know. I feel pretty dead inside,” Garrus mused.

“You may have the look of death and dying things, but your heart still beats. Get. Up,” Javik commanded.

“Go. Away,” Garrus growled, voice flanging low, laced with threat.

“Starting today, you will rise at dawn to train with me. If you do not,” Javik paused, contemplating a fitting punishment. “If you do not,” he continued, “I will ask Liara to discuss baby names with you. It is incredibly tedious, and you will hate it.”

“What, is the name Overlord already taken?” Garrus asked.

“Do not patronize me,” Javik snorted. “That was the first name I suggested–Adhipati, or perhaps Sarvashaktimaan. Liara did not approve.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Garrus sniffed. He scrubbed the exhaustion from his face, then propped himself up on his elbow. “You aren’t going to leave me alone,” he observed.

“No, I am not. We will train, discuss strategy, and prepare for whichever enemy awaits us on the other side of this Crucible,” Javik confirmed. Garrus heaved out a heavy breath.

“Fine,” he conceded. He could recognize a losing battle.

“Good,” Javik nodded, the matter settled.

“Great,” Garrus deadpanned. Javik bowed his head, turned tightly on his heel, and left. Across the room, Garrus caught Kaidan peeking out from his bunk. The moment they made eye contact, Garrus grinned maniacally. Kaidan groaned and yanked his blanket over his head.

“No. There’s no way in hell I’m joining you,” he started to protest, but Garrus had already crossed the room and thrown his blanket back.

“Scared to find out you’re an old man, Alenko?” Garrus taunted. “I saw you in that warehouse. You could use a little loosening up. Plus, if I have to suffer, so do you.”

“Just go. Let the rest of us sleep,” Rahna moaned. The entire room muttered their agreement, including Wrex, who had stopped snoring long enough to be jostled awake by their bickering.

“Alright, alright,” Kaidan said. “But I’ll remember this, Rahn.” She replied with a sleepy smile and kiss, then snuggled back into her warm bed.

The human and turian changed into their training fatigues, then made their way to the exercise room, both dreading the hell that Javik had waiting for them.

Chapter 12: Alive

“If you had four eyes, you would have been able to see this coming,” Javik said, elbow clamped around Garrus’s neck in a headlock. “Another flaw of your primitive biology.”

“I don’t need four eyes to flip you on your ass,” Garrus gritted back. He kicked a leg around Javik’s chest, braced his other against the ground, and leveraged their position to do exactly that. Flip Javik on his ass. He landed with a soft thud on the training mats, with Garrus pinning him down.

The prothean’s eyes widened, then narrowed. “Impressive,” he reluctantly yielded, tapping out on Garrus’s leg. Garrus released him and offered a hand up. They rose together, clapping each other on the shoulder. “I don’t believe you are retired, as you claim,” Javik studied him.

“I run a lot of combat sims in my downtime,” Garrus explained. “And, since I am retired, I have a lot of downtime.”

“You still running those old sims?” Kaidan asked, toweling sweat off his forehead. He worked his cardio while they sparred. With his L2 implants, good blood flow was vital for alleviating his migraines.

“What can I say? I really like shooting Cerberus goons. Reminds me of the good old days,” Garrus shrugged. He tried to hide the sudden blush creeping up his carapace. If they knew the other ways he was using his simulator…

Javik stared intently at Garrus, all six nostrils flaring. “You smell of arousal and shame,” he noted. Garrus nearly swallowed his own tongue.

He recovered quickly to the sound of Kaidan choking on his own spit. “Like I said,” he replied evenly, “I really like shooting Cerberus goons.”

Javik’s lip twisted in disgust. Kaidan choked on another laugh. “I will not question your primitive tastes, but you will keep them to yourself,” Javik sniffed.

“If you insist,” Garrus saluted him.

Javik turned to Kaidan. “You. Join me on the mats,” he ordered. Kaidan paled.

“I think I’m good,” he said.

“That is what I will be assessing, though I doubt you are much better than mediocre, with those subpar human feet,” Javik said, motioning again for Kaidan to step into the makeshift sparring ring.

Kaidan glanced down. “My feet? What’s wrong with my feet?” he asked.

Javik snorted. “Far too many toes. How you stay upright is a mystery to me.”

Kaidan sighed, took a swig of water, then joined Javik on the mats.

“Go easy on him Javik, he’s an old man,” Garrus poked as they circled each other.

“I am over 50,000 years old. If anyone here is an ‘old man’ it is me, and you do not hear me asking for leniency,” Javik said.

“Yeah, but do your knees make this sound?” Kaidan asked, squatting. His knees creaked and crackled.

Javik mirrored the squat. “No, they do not. Prothean knees are obviously superior to human ones,” he said.

A point he proved when he slammed Kaidan down on the mats less than a minute later.

…

The days passed by. Slowly. And they all started the same way, with Javik’s ball-busting training regiment and Garrus dragging Kaidan along for the fun. Wrex joined them every so often, to show them what a real apex species was made of. They all limped out of those sessions, foreheads bruised and bones near-broken.

On those mornings, Garrus thanked the spirits for medi-gel and whatever booze he could pillage from the lounge. A supply that was near dwindling by the end of the first week.

It was around that time that Garrus received a message from Liara, summoning him to her private quarters. She even sent Glyph to guide him there. Or to make sure he went.

When he knocked on her door, she invited him into her cabin. The space reminded him of her room on the Normandy, with a wall full of screens displaying various feeds of intel, and a window looking out at the stars. She had prothean artifacts scattered around the room as well, and a spacious bed, big enough for two.

“So,” Garrus said, “you and Javik. Can’t say I saw that coming.”

Liara brushed a hand over her small bump. “Do you remember when Shepard woke him from stasis?” she asked, smiling at the memory. “I was so excited to meet a prothean. To ask him about his people and their culture. I had so many questions. And I was devastated when he didn’t live up to my romanticized expectations. I was naïve, and I was convinced he hated me for it.”

“I remember,” Garrus said. He’d told Shepard to put Javik back under, save them all from his derisive remarks about the species they all used to be before evolution thrust them forward.

“He terrified me, at first. Even though I had spent years researching his people, I had to unlearn everything I thought I knew. And even then, it was like he and I spoke two completely different languages. It wasn’t until our first annual reunion with the Normandy crew that things changed,” she recounted. “I hosted it at my apartment on Illium. I was still piecing my prothean collection back together after Spectre Vasir attempted to assassinate me. And when Javik saw the artifacts, he asked, ‘Liara T’Soni, why do you have a prothean back scratcher displayed on your dining table?’”

Liara laughed, palming her face in embarrassment. Garrus smiled. He wished he’d been there to see it. Watch them fall in love.

“He was joking, of course. But it was just more proof that protheans weren't everything I thought or expected,” she paused, then thoughtfully added, “He wasn't what I expected. And he continues to surprise me every day.”

“I’m happy for you. For both of you,” Garrus said. “Actually, all three of you,” he nodded to her stomach.

“Thank you,” she smiled. She crossed the room to a chest at the base of her bed, opened it, and pulled something out. “But that isn’t why I called you here. Please, sit,” she motioned for Garrus to take a seat in one of the armchairs by the window. He obliged, and she joined him shortly after.

She set a flat box down in front of them on the table. As soon as she did, an interface popped up, and she began typing something into it.

“The suspense is killing me,” Garrus said. He wasn’t sure what it was or what it did, but he knew Liara was up to something.

“Before we came to Earth for our final stand against the Reapers, I asked Shepard to help me with a project I was working on,” she explained. She typed in a few more commands, then suddenly, a small hologram of Shepard lit up on the console. “I wanted to make sure that even 50,000 years from now, galaxies knew her. So I created this time capsule. After I dictated her entry, she and I… well, we may have had a few drinks, and,” she tapped the console. The hologram of Shepard started moving.

“Is it recording?” tiny Shepard asked. Garrus froze. Her voice. Not just some VI’s replication of it.

“Let me check,” Liara answered, disembodied. “No… wait, yes, it’s recording.”

“Good,” Shepard said. She cleared her throat, then, “I’m Commander Shepard, and this is my favourite…” she didn’t finish. She and Liara spilled over, laughing. “No, that’s not what I wanted to say. Can we clip that part out?”

“Yes,” Liara lied.

“Alright, starting over,” Shepard shook out her shoulders and composed herself. “I don’t know what the universe looks like, 50,000 years from now. I don’t know if the reapers wiped us out, or if the Crucible worked and we rallied to save the galaxy,” she paused, looked up like she was looking right into Garrus’s eyes, “but I do know that every single sacrifice we made was worth it. It wasn’t easy. We lost good people to make it happen. But we didn’t give up the one thing that separated us from the reapers. Our heart, and our willingness to accept each other, despite our flaws and differences.”

“Spoken like a true paragon,” Liara’s voice tittered in the recording.

“Yeah, yeah,” Shepard laughed with her. “Way to ruin the moment, T’Soni.”

“I’m sorry,” Liara said. She didn’t sound sorry.

“I just…” Shepard trailed off, gathering her thoughts. “My name isn’t the only name that deserves to be written in the stars. I didn’t become Commander Shepard without… without Liara T’Soni. Without Garrus Vakarian,” her voice hitched. “Without Tali’Zorah vas Normandy, Wrex Urdnot, Kaidan Alenko, Ashley Williams.” Her list continued, naming each and every soul that passed through the Normandy's airlock.

By the end, Garrus’s vision blurred. Shepard looked just as broken.

“And that isn’t even everyone. There are turians fighting right now on Palaven, asari that gave their lives defending Thessia, and millions of people on the frontlines, fighting for the future. Fighting for you. So… don’t give up hope. Because we never did,” she finished. She held Garrus’s gaze, then looked over her shoulder. “That’s it, that’s all I wanted to say.”

“It was perfect, Shepard,” Liara’s recording said. The hologram blinked out.

“She always knew what to say. What we needed to hear,” Liara mused, dabbing her tears.

Garrus stared at the console. It took him a few breathes to steady his heartbeat. “Can you… play it again?” he asked.

Liara smiled, reached forward, and called the hologram back up.

…

They rewatched Shepard’s recording five times. After that, Garrus thanked her for sharing it with him, trekked back to his room, pulled the curtain across his bunk, and grabbed his simulator.

He mulled it over in his hands. He knew what he had to do. He just didn’t know if he could do it. But he lifted the simulator over his eyes and cued up a simulation he'd been saving for a while.

…

Shepard’s apartment was quiet. Calm. A slow, deep beat drifted up from the Silversun Strip, accompanied by pulsing lights and hovercars flashing by. Garrus sat on the sofa, idly watching flames dance in the fireplace.

Shepard appeared from the kitchen, carrying a stem of wine for herself and a tumbler of horosk for him. She joined him on the couch, curling into his side as she handed him his glass. “You sure you wanna stay in tonight?” she asked, sighing contentedly. “We could hit the casino, win enough creds in Quasar to get a new scope for Widow. Or I could beat your ass at Relay Defense. Traynor showed me a thing or two.”

“There’s no where else I’d rather be,” he answered, wrapping his arm around her, tugging her closer. They sat in companionable silence for a while, until the simulation froze, lulling into sleep mode. Garrus rubbed the tension out of his temples and the sim sparked back up.

“What’s wrong?” Shepard asked, stroking his wrist.

“Nothing,” Garrus lied. She didn’t press him on it. It wasn’t in her coding. Garrus sighed. “Actually,” he started, and shifted so he could look at her. He felt the words stuck in his throat. Had to grit through it. “I’m here to say goodbye.”

Shepard VI frowned. “Goodbye?” she asked. Her grey eyes flashed green. “Where you going?”

He studied her, committing her face to memory. If there was one thing the simulator got right, it was how Shep looked, down to the last freckle and scar. He didn’t know if he’d see her again. How she’d look now, after twelve long years. He hoped she hadn't changed too much.

“On a mission,” he finally answered. “To find you.”

“Find me?” Shepard VI asked, quirking an eyebrow. “I’m right here.”

“No,” Garrus said, voice quiet, “you’re not.”

A breath of silence. He could see the VI processing his words, attempting to draw up a response, something Shepard would say.

It couldn’t.

“Twelve years ago, you disappeared. And I’ve been drowning ever since. I thought I was working through it. I thought I was keeping you alive, somehow, with these sims. But I wasn’t. I was keeping myself alive. Barely,” he said, biting back a bitter smile. Shepard VI stared at him, gaze empty. “Seeing the crew again… I’ve felt more alive than I have since our last night together, before the Crucible took you away from me. And I can’t go back. I can’t keep holding onto this piece of you. It isn’t enough. And… and that’s okay. Because I’m not alone anymore. And we’re coming to find you.”

He leaned over and pressed a kiss to the VI’s lips. When he pulled away, he saw the last piece of Shepard vanish in one final flash of green in the VI’s eyes.

“Thank you. For everything,” he said, taking her hands in his.

The apartment, and Shepard VI, drifted away as he powered down the simulation.

When he peeled the simulator off, tears spattered the visor. He waved his omni-tool over it, wiping its memory. Erasing her.

When it was done, he pulled the privacy curtain on his bunk back and smiled over at Tali. “Visit engineering with me?” he asked her.

She snapped to attention, scrambling out of her bunk. “I’d love to,” she said.

On their way out of the room, Garrus tossed the simulator in the trash bin.

He didn’t need it anymore.

Chapter 13: The calm before

“The Crucible is almost complete, Garrus,” Liara said. It wasn’t the first time she’d told him, and he was starting to think he’d never hear the last. It would always be almost complete.

He asked her every morning. Every night. Every time they crossed paths in the labyrinthine halls. And her answer was always the same.

Two weeks had passed since the Illari docked on the Crucible. By Garrus’s metrics, it should have been done by now. But there were still more preparations to make, still more diagnostics to run and run again. Still more waiting. And waiting.

But the Crucible’s crew had been working for twelve years to reconstruct it from the previous Crucible’s bones. They weren’t going to activate it until it was ready. No matter how many times Garrus asked.

Then, finally, he got the message he’d been waiting for.

It’s time. Liara’s memo said, sent only to the inner circle–that’s what he considered them, anyways–him, Tali, Wrex, Javik, and Kaidan. And Rahna, by proximity. We’re in the final stages. We will meet tomorrow to go over the mission plan.

Garrus didn’t sleep that night. He didn’t protest when Javik fetched him for morning training, and he was the first to hike down to the Illari for debriefing. Wrex, of course, was the last to meander through the doors.

The inner circle gathered in Illari’s council room, mingling until Liara called them to attention. She brought up the Crucible on the centre holo and leaned against the console. “In a few hours, we will begin flying the Crucible towards Earth, to where it was last activated,” she started.

“Right… and how do we activate it, exactly? Did we figure out what the Catalyst is?” Garrus asked. The Catalyst was the most important, and mysterious, part of the equation. When Shepard entered the Crucible, they still hadn’t figured out what it was. But she made it work, somehow. Like she always did.

“After salvaging what we could from the original Crucible, we found evidence of a highly advanced AI on board. But only traces,” she explained.

“An AI? Like EDI?” Tali asked. Liara tilted her head, considering.

“Yes, and no. The AI’s remnants were more complex than anything we’ve ever encountered, and almost completely indecipherable. The streams of its coding resembled strands of reaper DNA, so we can only assume it was as ancient as them,” Liara speculated. “We did what we could to harvest the AI, but most of it was obliterated in the blast.”

“Are you saying the Catalyst–the only thing that’ll make this otherwise useless space station activate–was destroyed?” Garrus asked, voice flat.

“Yes,” Liara said, “but we have a solution.” She flitted her hand, and the council room doors opened.

“Greetings,” Glyph buzzed in, whirring to the centre of the room beside Liara. “Did I hit my cue, Shadow Broker?”

Liara smiled, patting Glyph. “Your timing was perfect, thank you Glyph.”

“I am happy to be of assistance,” Glyph’s light shuddered, pleased.

“We were able to adapt and integrate parts of the ancient AI’s architecture into Glyph,” Liara explained. “He is… AI now.”

“So, you used unknown technology that closely resembles reaper DNA to upgrade a VI into an AI. What could possibly go wrong?” Garrus asked.

“It’s true,” Glyph chimed, “I am starting to feel the uncontrollable urge to cull the galaxy. But I will bide my time before total galactic annihilation.” Silence. Tali coughed uncomfortably. “That was an attempt at humour. Ha. Ha.”

“EDI teach you that one?” Kaidan grimaced.

“Indirectly. As a VI, I often heard her make similar comments to Jeff. At the time, I did not understand her jokes or relationship with sentient lifeforms. Now, I find the pastime amusing,” Glyph answered.

“If only the reapers had the same sense of humour,” Garrus said.

“Alright, so Glyph’s the catalyst. What’s next?” Kaidan asked, steering them back.

“We activate the Crucible and follow the traces Shepard left behind,” Liara explained.

“When you say traces,” Kaidan cut in, “what exactly do you mean?”

“When we digitally biopsied the ancient AI, we found something strange,” Liara said.

“Stranger than reaper DNA?” Garrus asked, skeptical.

“Yes,” Liara typed something into the centre holo, and it changed from the Crucible’s schematics into a spiraling wave of data. It pulsed and twisted in an infinite kaleidoscope of code, but there was something hard encoded at its core.

“What is that?” Kaidan asked, squinting into the swirl.

Garrus’s breath hitched. He knew what it was before Liara waved away the peripheral data to get a closer look. “A galaxy,” he exhaled. And the sweep of data was a path to it, if they could figure out how to connect the dots.

“Yes. Someone left this here for us to find,” she revealed. “I don’t think it was Shepard. Perhaps it is from the original species that constructed the Crucible. And based on Glyph’s findings, this is where the Crucible sent Shepard.”

“Nice of them to draw us a map,” Garrus mused. “Whoever they are.”

“Could be a trap,” Kaidan speculated.

“When has that ever stopped us?” Garrus countered.

“You’re right, it’s only ever encouraged us,” Kaidan said, and they smirked at each other. Rahna paled, the realization dawning on her that this wasn’t their first probably-suicide mission.

“Once we activate the Crucible, Glyph will be able to use this data to pinpoint this galaxy’s location. If there’s a relay there, he’ll be able to find it,” Liara assured them. Glyph buzzed his agreement. “Then all we have to do is send you through to Shepard.”

“Send you through? Not us?” Garrus asked. Liara’s eyes fell to the floor, and Javik rested a hand on her shoulder. His other hand caressed her swelling stomach.

“Liara will not be joining us. We will not risk our child,” he stated, tone flatter than an elcor’s.

“And Shepard wouldn’t want you to,” Tali said. She crossed the room and grabbed Liara’s hand, giving her friend a reassuring smile. “She would want you here, holding the galaxy together until we get back.”

“Easier said than done,” Liara returned her smile. “But yes, as much as I want to go with you, I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Garrus said, uncrossing his arms. “You rebuilt the Crucible. You hunted us all down and brought us back together. We’ll take it from here.”

The inner circle nodded their agreement. They were ready.

“Illari’s crew will join you, in my stead. I have briefed them on the dangers, and they’re willing to accept them, for Shepard,” Liara said. “Once we arrive at Earth, Admiral Hackett will be waiting for us with the full force of the Alliance fleet. They have also been briefed, and they’re eager to have their hero returned. They’ll protect the Crucible. Once we activate it and reveal its existence, we fully anticipate outside interest. Potentially even resistance. I’ll remain here to coordinate between the Illari and Crucible. Once you have Shepard, and you’re ready to return, we will activate it again and bring you all back,” Liara explained.

“You’re making it sound too easy,” Garrus said. “What about the indoctrinated rogue spectre anticipating our every move? The illusive shadow corporation plotting against us? Or the mother of all thresher maws looming between us and our main objective?”

“Don’t forget about the cybernetically-enhanced, ninjatō-wielding psycho. Always have to have one of those,” Kaidan added grimly.

“Bring ‘em on,” Wrex crushed his knuckles together.

Liara chuckled. “I’m sure there will be any number of unanticipated challenges. And I have no doubt you will overcome all of them.”

“Wouldn’t be nearly as fun without a few near-death experiences,” Garrus shrugged.

“What exactly did I sign up for?” Rahna asked, laughing nervously. Kaidan wrapped an arm around her shoulder and gave her a reassuring squeeze.

“Nothing we can’t handle,” he said. She didn’t look convinced.

“We should arrive at Earth sometime tomorrow. Take the night to prepare,” Liara said. They wrapped up the meeting, then everyone but Javik and Liara filed off the ship. They made their way back to their living quarters just in time to hear Liara’s station-wide announcement.

After years of building this beast, they would activate the Crucible tomorrow. The station quaked with whoops and cheers. Garrus hadn’t been the only one yearning for this moment.

He sank into his bunk and stared at the ceiling. Now he just had to survive through the next twenty-four hours.

…

He made it three hours. Then he couldn’t take it anymore.

“I need to blow off some steam before I lose my mind,” he said, sitting up. Tali was the only one who had stayed behind in the room with him, tinkering with her drone.

She looked up from her work and blinked at him, grinning. “Does that mean what I think it means?” she asked.

“Yeah. Go grab Alenko. And Rahna. I’ll hunt down Wrex,” he said.

Tali jumped up and started racing from the room, but paused in the doorway. “What about Liara and Javik?” she hesitated.

“Liara can’t and Javik won’t want to spend his last night away from her, trust me,” he shook his head. “Let’s keep it cozy this time, just the five of us. Meet me in the lounge.” Tali nodded, then disappeared.

Garrus knew exactly where to find Wrex. The shooting range. There were a few throughout the station, so Garrus started with the closest and got lucky. Wrex was in a booth, reloading his shotgun. Garrus grabbed a rifle and joined him in the booth beside him.

“Vakarian,” Wrex grunted a greeting. He fired the shotgun from his hip, shredding a messy hole through the target on the other side of the range. He heh’d, reloaded, and shot again.

“Urdnot,” Garrus replied. He lifted his rifle, aimed, and cracked his target straight through its holographic heart. “Tali and I are getting the gang together. You in?”

Wrex side-eyed him over the shotgun barrel. “The usual?” Wrex asked. Garrus nodded. “Sure.” He emptied the last of his shotgun shells, decimating his target, then set it down and left it in the booth. He’d be back.

Garrus led him back to their living quarters where Tali, Kaidan, and Rahna were already gathered in the lounge around a secluded table. On their way over, Garrus grabbed five glasses from the bar, and a couple bottles of whatever looked good and quarian-turian friendly. He set their libations down and passed the glasses around.

“Do we really have to do this?” Kaidan asked, wincing as Garrus filled a glass to the brim with amber liquid and passed it to him.

“It’s tradition, Alenko,” Garrus replied.

“Sorry, what’s tradition?” Rahna asked, embarrassed as she held out her glass. Garrus didn’t go as heavy-handed on her drink, and she smiled at him, grateful.

“Drinking Kaidan under the table before a big mission,” Garrus answered. “Don’t worry, it doesn’t take much.”

“Says the guy who can’t drink anything with levo-amino acids,” Kaidan snarked. Wrex snorted and clinked his glass against Kaidan’s.

“Hah! Good one,” Wrex barked.

“I don’t know, felt a bit weak to me. Kind of like human beer,” Garrus said as he settled into an open armchair.

Kaidan sucked the brim of his glass so it wouldn’t spill over as he sat back. “The real tradition is getting hammered and swapping war stories before a suicide mission,” he said, and saw the look of pure terror in Rahna’s eyes. “Not that this is one,” he added, voice pitched.

“I’ll go first,” Wrex said, hunching forward. “A few months back, pack of vorcha tried to takeover Afterlife. They crawled up from their shit pits and started swarming the bar, chittering about how it was their club now. Wasn’t long before they wore out their welcome, and Aria sent me in. Seeing them all grouped up together like that, I did what any good krogan would. Climbed on top of the banister and dropped down right on top of them. Flattened five in the dive. I can still hear their bones snapping.”

“Bragging about fighting vorcha is like bragging you squished a few bugs,” Tali said. She sipped her drink through her ‘emergency induction port’ – otherwise known as a swirly straw.

“Like you could do better,” Wrex grumbled, taking a gulp from his own glass.

“I can, and I will,” she said, taking another sip for dramatic effect. “One time I helped Commander Shepard fend off the Reapers and save the galaxy.”

“That doesn’t count, we were all there for that,” Garrus said.

“Pah,” Tali waved him off. “I’ve been on Rannoch for the last decade. And the geth aren’t a threat anymore. The most excitement I’ve had lately is getting shot on Omega. And you were all there for that too.” Garrus grimaced, and Tali flicked his forehead. “This isn’t a pity party, Garrus. Start drinking or tell us a story.”

He drank. Kaidan quirked an eyebrow at him. “Let me guess,” Kaidan said, “you don’t have any stories because–,” he started. In unison, the group finished, “you’re retired.”

Garrus chuckled. “Who said anything about being retired?” he asked. “I’ve been hunting down Cerberus goons and other space scum this whole time.”

Sure, his ‘heroics’ were all simulated, but they didn’t need to know that. He coated his words with enough sarcasm that he earned a couple exasperated laughs.

“At least someone’s still cleaning up Cerberus. Heard a rumour a while back that there’s still a faction of them left out there,” Kaidan said. “As for Rahna and I, we’ve been taking it pretty easy.”

“That’s right. Aren’t you two looking to settle down on Earth soon?” Tali asked.

“Bought a condo and everything,” Kaidan nodded. He caught Rahna’s eye, and they smiled at each other, clinking their glasses. “We’ll be ready to move in as soon as we get back.”

“Exciting!” Tali beamed.

“It is,” Rahna agreed, but her joy was reserved. “It’ll be a big change. I’m going to miss my kids.”

Garrus tilted his head. “You have kids?”

“I have students. Combat and conflict were never really my style, so I didn’t end up joining the military like most of our classmates,” Rahna explained. “I’m actually an instructor at Grissom Academy.”

Based on what Kaidan shared about their time in ‘Brain Camp’, it made sense. Rahna knew how cruel and unforgiving teachers could be. Especially ex-mercenary turians, like Commander Vyrnnus. From what Garrus remembered, Kaidan accidentally killed Vyrnnus trying to defend Rahna. During a particularly merciless day of training, Vyrnnus disciplined Rahna for reaching for her water without using her powers. He biotically broke her arm as punishment. And then Kaidan broke his face.

Seemed like an even trade, to Garrus.

And here Rahna was, trying to make sure the next generation of biotics didn’t have to suffer through the same trauma. Garrus respected that.

“You must know Jack, then,” he said. He didn’t spend too much time with Jack, but he understood her motives, maybe better than anyone else on the Normandy besides Miranda.

Vengeance was a powerful motivator. And poison, if you let it fester.

“Oh yes, I know Jack very well. She’s notorious at the academy. Some of the other instructors think she’s too unprofessional and prickly, but I disagree. She’s… passionate. And she loves her students. She pushes them, but never beyond their breaking point, and she never forces anything on them. She challenges them and leaves it up to them if they want to rise to it. For that reason alone, I like her. The rest of the faculty can shove it,” she said.

“Cheers to someone somewhere shoving it,” Wrex lifted his glass.

The group cheered. Another round was poured.

“Alright, I have one,” Garrus said, tongue loosened by the liquor. He launched into a story about one of his simulations – he changed a few names and blurred some of the details, but it made for a good story, even if it wasn’t real. He’d racked up a kill count of fifty-six rachni – a new high score – before a brood warrior wrapped its tentacle around his throat and snapped his neck.

He left that part out.

When he was done regaling them, they saluted Garrus’s tall tale. Only Wrex pressed him for more details, but Rahna quickly picked up the tradition and shared a story about how her students nearly blew up Orion Hall using their biotics to start a fart-flinging war.

“They were using biotic barriers to encase their… gas…” she blushed. Wrex’s attention was fully diverted, and Garrus let out a breath of relief. “And then they hurled the barriers at each other, like little fart grenades. So much gas built up that the station’s emergency protocols locked the hall down due to a ‘high methane hazard’. The students were absolutely thrilled with themselves. Well, the ones that weren’t gagging.”

“Come on,” Kaidan chuckled, “there’s no way–”

“It was chili day in the cafeteria,” she clarified.

“Nevermind, that checks out,” he said.

It wasn’t a war story, but it had its moments. Tali went next, then Kaidan, then they circled back to Wrex and by then Garrus’s glass was empty for the fourth – maybe sixth – time, and the room was starting to spin.

Others from the Illari trickled into the lounge. They’d all had the same idea. One last night to rally and revel before activating an ancient device that would either blast another hole through their galaxy or repair the damage it dealt the first time.

Or worse. It wouldn’t work at all.

But those were worries for tomorrow. Tonight, they drank and danced, and only turned in once the bar was dry.

Kaidan and Rahna were the first to bow out, and, at some point, Tali had slipped away to flirt with Sul’Fel, who had conveniently found his way to their deck for a drink. After that, Wrex invited Garrus back to the range.

“You go ahead,” Garrus said, “I’m gonna turn in. Big day tomorrow.”

“Damn right it is,” Wrex smirked. He clapped Garrus on the shoulder then ambled off. Garrus took one last look around the room and spotted Tali by the bar. Sul’Fel’s hand was on her knee, and she was leaning into him, swirling her straw between her fingers.

There were a few other familiar faces as he scanned the room, but they were all in their own worlds, enjoying the calm before the storm. And Garrus was exhausted. He set his empty glass down, hoisted himself up, retired to his bunk, and let the world blur to black.

Chapter 14: Ancestors, be with us

“Thought I’d be the first one here,” Garrus muttered. He set his duffle down at the edge of Illari’s command deck. Kaidan glanced up from the galaxy map. His eyes were dusky, and deep bags dragged under them.

No one else was on the ship. It was just the two of them.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Kaidan muttered back.

“Really? You and Rahna turned in pretty early last night. Guess she wore you out. Can’t say I’m surprised,” Garrus joked.

Garrus had expected an exasperated chuckle, at the very least, but Kaidan just scrubbed a hand over his face, rubbing some colour back into his pale cheeks. “We’re about to activate the Crucible, Garrus. The Crucible,” he said.

Garrus quirked a brow. “And?”

Kaidan blew out a tight breath. “And, the last time we were here, we lost Shepard. We lost more than half of our relays. I trust Liara, I just… I wonder if…” he trailed off. Garrus could read the guilt in Kaidan’s gaze.

The fear.

“If it’s worth the risk?” Garrus finished his thought.

“No. I know it’s worth the risk. Shepard is worth it, reactivating the relays is worth it. But so many things could go wrong,” Kaidan continued. “It could implode. It could destroy the last of the relays. It could finish what the Reapers started and wipe out every last living organism.”

“It could sprout tentacles and start reciting hanar haikus,” Garrus offered.

Kaidan sighed. “I’m being serious, Garrus.”

“So am I! Have you ever heard hanar poetry? This one feels like a flower. Please, I’d rather be imploded,” he said. Kaidan cracked, chuckling despite his doubts. “Besides,” Garrus continued, “think of how weird and chaotic it will be when things actually go right. We’ll have hordes of infant krogans to corral, plus, the salarians will have twelve years of rambling to catch up on, can’t miss that.” He picked up his duffle and headed towards the elevator.

“On second thought,” Kaidan said, considering, “do we really need to reactivate all the relays?”

Garrus smirked. “That’s the spirit.” The elevator doors opened and he stepped on. He lingered inside, holding the doors back from closing. Kaidan started pacing again, but at least his shoulders had softened. Still, Garrus sighed and stepped off. He let the elevator doors close behind him. “What’s really bothering you? Not that I care,” Garrus prodded. “You basically strongarmed me out of retirement to do this. And until yesterday you were annoyingly optimistic about this whole thing. What changed?”

“Nothing,” Kaidan said. Then grimaced at his own lie. “Nothing’s changed, but things are… different. I’ve got Rahna. And I don’t think she understood the gravity of what we’re about to do, until Liara laid it all out for us yesterday. She’s scared, and I don’t blame her. It’s easy for everyone else to talk about Shepard and what she did, like she’s some kind of bedtime story. But we were there. We saw the Crucible activate and kill every last Reaper. We felt it. We know what we’re potentially stepping into, and we’re still willing to try. To risk it all. But I… I can’t risk Rahna.”

Silence settled between them. Without a word, Garrus walked over to Kaidan, clasping his shoulder. “You don’t have to. We can take it from here,” he said. And he meant it. He wouldn’t judge Kaidan for backing out now. Sure, he’d tease him about it relentlessly when things worked out and they brought Shepard back, but he wouldn’t think any less of him.

“No, I have to do this,” Kaidan replied, steeling his resolve. “But… maybe Rahna doesn’t have to. Maybe she can hang back with Liara–”

“Or maybe I can speak for myself?” Rahna interrupted his spiral. She stood in the airlock, her arms crossed, her eyes molten anger. “Wherever you go, I go. You know that.”

“But-”

“No,” she cut him off again. “Am I terrified? Yes. Am I slightly jealous that you’re willing to go to any lengths to bring her back? Also yes. But if you have to do this, then so do I.”

Garrus stepped away from Kaidan, then continued slowly backing away.

“You’re… jealous?” Kaidan asked.

“I’m human, Kaidan. Of course I’m jealous. How could I ever compare to the Commander Shepard?” She asked.

Garrus hailed the elevator. Hailed it again. Tried to make himself invisible as he waited for the doors to open.

“You don’t need to compare to her, because you’re you,” Kaidan said. He pulled her into an embrace, tilting her chin up so that she would meet his gaze. “You’re my everything.” His lips grazed hers, and the heat of her anger melted under the tenderness of his touch.

The elevator doors opened and Garrus nearly fell over himself to retreat inside.

He recovered quickly, pressing every button until the doors closed and he was saved from one of the most awkward experiences of his life.

“What did you do today, Garrus?” He asked himself as the elevator descended. “Oh, I just witnessed my girlfriend’s ex-boyfriend tell his new girlfriend how she shouldn’t be jealous of his galaxy-saving ex-girlfriend, AKA my girlfriend.” He rubbed at his temples.

“That is a very awkward situation,” Glyph’s voice suddenly filled the elevator. “If it makes you feel better, Kaidan and Rahna are currently, as biologics say, ‘making up’.”

Garrus sighed. After years of EDI eavesdropping and weighing in on personal conversations, this invasion of privacy wasn’t new. “Great. Do me a favour? Don’t tell me about it,” Garrus said.

“Now they are… making up on the galaxy map,” Glyph ignored him. And he continued to give Garrus a play-by-play until the elevator reached the crew deck and Garrus stepped off. As soon as he made it to his room and set down his bags, Glyph made an unsettled sound over the intercom. “They have accidentally designated the Omega 4 relay as our destination.”

The ship started powering up, preparing to disembark for the deadliest relay in the galaxy. Garrus scrambled for the door. Then, suddenly, silence. The ship settled, and Garrus swore he could hear shrill screams sounding from somewhere above. Then silence again.

“Do not worry. I have activated the fire extinguishers on the command deck. They are no longer making up. I have also cancelled our Omega-4 detour,” Glyph said.

“Thanks Glyph. Stop spying on us,” Garrus chastised.

“I will consider your request,” Glyph said.

“Wasn’t a request,” Garrus said.

“I will still consider it,” Glyph replied.

Garrus spent the next few hours actively avoiding Kaidan and Rahna as the rest of the crew trickled in. Some were eager to get on board, but there were more than a few teary eyes and drawn-out goodbyes.

Tali, in particular, took her time dragging herself away from Sul’Fel, who dropped her off at the Illari’s front door. When she stepped onto the ship, she took one look at Garrus’s smirk and held out a finger to silence him. “Not. A. Word,” she said.

“Wasn’t gonna,” Garrus said, “but now that you mention it, you and Sul’Fel seemed pretty cozy last night. And this morning.”

“What can I say? He knows his way around an FTL drive,” she shrugged.

“Hopefully he knows his way around a lot more than that,” Garrus replied, and Tali swatted his arm.

“We have arrived at our destination,” Illari’s automated VI announced. Garrus’s skin itched with anticipation. “Please standby for departure from the Crucible.”

Garrus was about to take his station – in his bedroom, where he was out of the way – when he saw Liara stride aboard the ship. The crew pressed a fist to their hearts and bowed their heads to her, saluting as she took her place on the central command platform. Tali and Garrus fell in line with them.

“Please,” Liara started, waving her hand for everyone to stand down. “It has been a long journey to get here. And it was not easy. It took each and every one of you wanting something more than to just survive the Reapers. You are the ones who fought and sacrificed and hoped, beyond hope, that we could save ourselves without compromising our honour. Our unity. You knew that even though we had defeated the Reapers, there was still work to do. And today, we will finally relight the stars of our galaxy until each constellation, each civilization we lost, is returned to us.”

The ship shook with applause, and Liara smiled, soaking in each face.

Once the cheering calmed, an asari stepped forward. She raised her hand and said, “For Thessia.”

A salarian joined in, “For Sur’kesh.”

“For Tuchanka,” Wrex bellowed from somewhere in the crowd. Crew continued listing the names of lost home worlds – ones cut off by the relays, and ones destroyed in the invasion.

“For Shepard,” Garrus added, much quieter. Because she was his home.

“For you,” Liara said, once the naming trickled off. “For all of you. Thank you for believing in this.” She paused, looking around the room. “Before I take my leave, I have one final command. A ship needs a captain, and, since I cannot join you, I have asked Tali’Zorah to lead in my place, and she has accepted.”

Tali smiled sheepishly at Garrus before making her way up beside Liara. The Illari crew saluted once more, to the chagrin of their new captain. “I will-,” she stammered, cleared her throat, “I will do my best.”

Laughter rippled through the crew, and Liara rested her hands on Tali’s shoulders. “I know you will,” she said, then pulled her into a tight hug. Before she pulled away, she whispered something to Tali. Tali nodded, glancing over at Garrus before she squeezed Liara’s hands and the two women disembarked the platform together.

Liara made her last rounds as the crew took their stations. As she reached Garrus, the Illari was ready to exit the Crucible and fly alongside it through Earth’s approaching space.

“Nice speech,” Garrus greeted her.

“I learned from the best,” Liara smiled. Her eyes welled up, but she quickly wiped away her emotions and reclaimed her composure. “Alright Garrus, it’s up to you and this crew now. Bring Shepard home. We’ll need her for when we begin reactivating the relays.”

“Yes ma’am,” Garrus saluted her.

“And try not to give Tali too much trouble,” she added.

Garrus smirked. “No promises.”

Liara sighed. “See you soon, Garrus,” she said, then descended from the Illari. He watched until the hatch closed behind her, then made his way to the observation deck.

This time, the room was mercifully empty. He took his spot, leaning against the window’s frame, and waited. It wasn’t long before the Illari drifted free from the Crucible and started ambling alongside the massive station towards Earth.

Earth. After all these years, the small planet still glowed bright and strong against the sea of darkness swathed around it. It wasn’t nearly as big as Tuchanka, or as impressive as Palaven, but it had a certain kind of simplistic charm to it.

He could see why Kaidan and Rahna wanted to settle down here.

As they got closer to the planet, specks of Alliance ships started fusing together, taking formation to surround and protect the Crucible. Garrus recognized Admiral Hackett’s frigate, the Colossus, at the fleet’s epicentre. It felt a bit nostalgic, seeing the Alliance banner.

And it tore at his heart.

He shook it off. No time for that.

He returned to his room and geared up. He didn’t know what they would face beyond the Crucible, but he wanted to be prepared for anything. He slipped on his visor, checked Black Widow’s sights, and slipped an extra sidearm into his loadout.

By then, Liara had summoned him and the squad. It was time.

He joined Wrex, Kaidan, Rahna, and Javik on the command deck, where Tali and Glyph hovered by the galaxy map.

“Open the ship’s shutters,” Tali ordered, and panels overhead shuddered back to reveal a large viewing window. “Hail Matriarch T’Soni,” she said, and Liara’s holo materialized on the central console. Javik reached towards her, but froze when he realized what he was doing.

If Garrus didn’t know any better, he’d think he saw emotion in Javik’s eyes.

“Admiral Hackett and the Alliance fleet are in position. The Crucible is primed. Tali, are you and your crew ready?” Liara asked.

Tali looked around at each of them, then nodded at Liara. “Yes. We’re ready,” she confirmed. Garrus’s throat clenched.

“Then I am activating the Crucible,” Liara said. “By the goddess, good luck.” In the holo, she stepped up to a pillar and placed her hand on it. Glyph’s light suddenly blinked out, and he drifted towards the galaxy map, implanting himself in the interface.

“Coordinates are set to unknown galaxy,” Glyph intoned over Illari’s intercom. “Traversing through the Crucible relay in ten… nine…” he continued to count them down.

“Ancestors be with us,” Tali said. She reached over and grabbed Garrus’s hand. “For Shepard,” she whispered.

Garrus squeezed her hand. “For Shepard.”

Overhead, Mass Effect energy surged through the Crucible, dragging the Illari towards it. The ship jerked and shook under the crushing waves, and Garrus had to let go of Tali’s hand to steady himself against the convulsions.

“Four… three…” Glyph continued. Garrus’s teeth rattled. “Two… one…” He closed his eyes.

He felt the familiar wash of Mass Effect energy flow through his body–

Chapter 15: Game over

A blast of blue light. Then, absolute darkness.

Chapter 16: 2186 – Twelve years ago

The blue light that blinded her slowly faded.

At first, it was brutal. The first breath she took burned white-hot like a flashfire through her lungs. And every breath after that felt like ice.

When Shepard opened her eyes, she was on an unfamiliar beach under an unfamiliar sky.

She summoned the last dregs of her strength to drag herself across the sand and made it to a patch of shade beneath a tropical-looking tree. That's where she blacked out for what felt like death's eternity.

But she knew death, and this wasn't it. Death was Cerberus's needles tearing into her flesh. Death was Ash's voice, calling to her from the void. Death was standing on the Crucible's precipice, making a choice to end it all. The Reapers. The cycle of suffering and survival. Her life. Everything she fought against and fought for, ended by one decision.

Yet, somehow, after all that, she was still alive.

So she clawed back her consciousness and brushed the crust from her eyes. When she opened them again, she saw a world bathed in violet light. Pink waves ebbed against a sandy shoreline, and a forest sprawled behind her. Creatures that looked like manta rays fluttered idly through a cloudless sky.

A sky that had one sun and three moons–and the closest moon was cracking apart.

She was definitely not on Earth. Not on any planet in any solar system she recognized.

She hoisted herself up and checked her gear. She still had her pistol, but limited ammo. No other loadout. Her omni-tool sizzled, dead, but her biotics still sparked at her fingertips. Her chestplate was nearly shattered, with bits of it flecking off as she stretched and stress-tested her body. Aches and pains, but nothing broken.

She was alive. Probably not dying. A good start.

Once she was satisfied with her assessment, she started walking, surveying her surroundings. Everything looked familiar, but nothing looked the same. The trees here had rubbery, pale stalks with canopies that drooped down in iridescent, wispy strands. Like palm trees, but also nothing like palm trees. And the air smelled and tasted strongly of salt and sea, but there was something sweet in it that she couldn’t quite place.

She walked the coast until she couldn’t, cut off by a jagged outcropping of rocks that glinted like sea glass under the pale-purple moons. She headed towards the treeline and paused at the edge to check her pistol. One clip. That’s all she had left to face whatever dangers lurked on this strange planet.

Should be fine. She’d been in tighter spots before.

She holstered her sidearm and picked through fallen tree stalks until she found one that wasn’t too thick or flimsy. She sharpened it into a spear and used it to clear away underbrush, pushing a path through the tangled, alien thicket. Every hundred feet or so, she’d carve N7 into a tree, leaving a scarred trail she could follow back to the shore.

The forest grew denser the deeper she delved. Larger trees replaced the palm-like ones, growing so tall they blotted out the sky with massive, willowing limbs. Underfoot, the terrain became overgrown and steep, pocked with the same slick, sea glass she’d seen at the shore. There were a few living creatures – mostly insects and small rodents – but no signs of sentient life.

She explored for an hour, keeping close to the coast. Once she was certain she wasn’t in hostile territory, she started foraging and setting up a shelter. By the time the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, she had a handful of questionable fruits and nuts, a makeshift rain catcher, and a sturdy lean-to shelter at the edge of the forest.

She settled under the shelter and examined her haul. Based on her field training, she knew to avoid white and yellow berries, because they were often poisonous no matter which planet you were on. She set those ones aside, then picked through the bulbous blue berries.

They smelled fresh and had a smooth texture, like blueberries back on Earth. She pinched them between her fingers and purple guts spilled out of them, staining her skin. She pressed them to her lips and waited fifteen minutes. Nothing happened, so she popped a few into her mouth and waited.

They tasted as refreshing as they smelled – watery, with a hint of honeyed sweetness. She deliberately chewed, sloshed them around, then swallowed.

No numbness. No stomach upset. No frothing at the mouth. Whatever they were, at least they were edible.

She repeated the process for each of the fruits and nuts. The long, spiraled red berry turned out to be a hot pepper and one of the nuts she tried numbed her tongue. She cracked a large, oval black fruit open and scooped out its gelatinous insides, which tasted disturbingly like licorice. Once she hollowed out the shell, she figured she could use it to catch and store water.

As she taste-tested, she watched the last of the day’s light drain from the world around her. A heavy dusk settled over the ocean, draining the vibrant colours of this world to ashen blue.

She closed her eyes and listened to the waves, imagining herself back on Earth, sipping Serrice Ice Brandy on the beach while Garrus lounged beside her, thumbing through one of his favourite crime novellas.

Garrus.

She could still see the pain in his eyes when she told him to go. To leave without her. He would’ve charged through that Reaper’s beam with her to reach the Crucible if she hadn’t stopped him. But then, he’d probably be dead. But he wasn’t – he, and the rest of her people – survived.

That’s what she had to hold on to. The Reapers were gone, and Garrus was alive. And, knowing him, he was already fighting like hell to find her.

She smudged away her tears. Then, she ate a handful of the blue berries to wash out the taste of everything else she’d tried. She settled in under the stars and fell asleep to the ebb and flow of the tide.

For the first time in months, she didn’t dream. No nightmares, no chasing ghosts through an endless, dying forest. No more fear or dread, or feeling the weight of all her decisions baring down on her.

Just blissful unconsciousness.

…

She woke up the next morning feeling refreshed and eager to explore more of this new world. She packed rations, sipped moisture collected in the rain catcher, then set out on the trail she’d carved the day before.

As she trekked, she scavenged and drafted a mental map of the landscape. She needed to find reliable sources of freshwater and food, and, since this world supported life, she hoped she could find some sign of civilization. If there was, and they were technologically advanced, maybe they’d help her send out a distress signal for the Normandy to track.

But she didn’t have any luck the first day or the second, or the weeks that followed.

After two months, she’d mapped out most of the coast and came to the conclusion that she was completely and entirely alone. She hadn’t seen any ships in the sky or boats out on the water. No tracks or traces of the planet’s inhabitants. Either there weren’t any, or she hadn’t found them yet.

Her small shelter gradually grew into a base of operations. She expanded the lean-to into a ramshackle hut, fully furnished with a makeshift table, chair, and bed made from large, spongy mushrooms she’d found inside a cave. On the table, she sketched a rough map, pinpointed key locations for food and water, and charted out her expeditions.

She fell asleep every night under three moons and a brushstroke of stars. It was lonely, but it was peaceful. Something she hadn’t had in years – even before she joined Normandy’s crew. And she thought of them often. Wondered if they even knew she was alive.

But she couldn’t dwell. She had to keep moving forward and find a way to let them know she was here.

On a day with clear, lavender skies, she headed towards the river she’d found that wound its way towards craggy mountains. The peaky ridge marked the edge of her known world, and it was a treacherous climb to the top.

It took a day to follow the river and reach the mountain. At its base, water frothed from cliffs higher up, cascading down in a picturesque series of waterfalls. She spent the night there, enjoying the soothing mist and rhythmic pummel of water against stone. She even stripped off her armour and clothes, skinny dipping in the cool, shallow basin.

In the morning, she started her climb, taking it one steep ascent at a time. In preparation, she had woven a rope from the willowed tree strands, and sharpened pitons of sea glass. For the flat, vertical climbs, she tied the rope around her waist and used the pitons in place of footholds. It was a hard climb, but she cleared the lowest cliffs before midday and paused on a ledge to eat, hydrate, and take a breath.

At this altitude, the air was tighter, but the view was incredible.

Wind rustled through the forest below, turning the canopy into a swirl of pastel blues and deep purples. Beyond that, the ocean looked as still as ice. The water stretched on passed the horizon, seemingly infinite against the violet sky.

Alien mantas drifted by on the breeze, some fluttering so close she could see a row of beady black eyes blinking at her from their underbellies. So far, the wildlife on this planet was docile, darting away the moment Shepard got too close. She’d managed to catch a few fish and smaller mammals, but she mostly kept to herself as long as they kept away.

As far as being stranded, there were worse planets to be stuck on.

But she didn’t plan on staying much longer.

She collected her gear and continued her climb. The higher she scaled, the lower the sun dipped. Halfway up she paused again, then pushed through until she reached the lowest peak. After a few more drags she’d be able to see passed the mountain to the world beyond. That knowledge alone kept her pushing forward.

She gripped the final ledge, hauled herself up–

–and nearly spilled over the edge in a sudden drop. Adrenaline surged, and she twisted her body against gravity. It took everything she had to catch herself and scramble onto a narrow shelf of stone. She pressed her back against the mountain, her feet dangling over the edge as she caught her breath.

Below her, a massive crater cleaved a chasmic cavity into the mountain. The height of it made her head swim, and she had to close her eyes to regain her equilibrium.

Once the black static cleared from her vision, she studied the crater more closely.

A ring of ridges spiraled out from the centre, lined by shatter cones of jagged, molten rock. At its core, a dome of the iridescent glass encased the hull of a ship.

A ship.

From this far, she couldn’t make out details, but parts of the craft were exposed and intact, if weatherbeaten. And it was seismically large, spanning half the crater. It would be a precarious, time-consuming climb down to get a closer look, and she didn’t know how long the ship had been melded there.

But she had to try. She had no other choice.

Slowly, carefully, she descended. As long as it took her to climb the mountain, it took twice as long to make her way back down. The rockface was flatter, the ledges slicker and farther between, and, partway down, the sky ripped open in a hailstorm, pelting her with heavy rain.

Eventually – miraculously – she made it to the bottom. The moment her feet touched down on flat bedrock, she collapsed to her knees, exhausted.

She didn’t stay down for long.

She knelt forward and used the momentum to carry herself to her feet. She took one step. Then two, then didn’t stop until she made it to the core of the crater. Hope bloomed in her chest as she approached the dome. This close, there was no mistaking it. The metal hull of a spaceship had melted into the stone, petrified and preserved by the heat of its impact.

Through the translucent shell, she could see the shadow of the ship’s entrance. Desperate, she scraped up the sharpest shard she could find and gouged into the dome. She chipped away at it until her nailbeds bled and she sundered a hole big enough for her to shimmy through.

Inside, it was cold and dark. The sun had long since set, and the light from the three moons didn’t carry this deep. She felt around blindly until she brushed the smooth metal of the ship, then traced along its edges to what felt like a control panel.

She closed her eyes and prayed the ship still had power. She pressed her hand against it and waited.

After three tight breaths, light suddenly flooded the darkness. She blinked against it, shielding her eyes until she could acclimatize to the brightness. The panel she held her hand to was shattered, a spiderweb of cracks creasing the display. Fuzzy symbols jittered on the screen. She took a guess and pressed one.

A low hiss. She braced herself, ready for anything.

A door swept open, revealing a corridor behind.

“Can’t be this easy,” she mused to herself. Because it never was this easy. She grabbed her pistol and cautiously stepped into the vessel. As soon as she breached the entrance, the door closed behind her.

No turning back now.

Chapter 17: Nazara

A low hum resonated deep within the ship. Shepard waited a few moments, her back against the sealed door, listening intently over the thrashing thrum of her heart.

Silence. Definitive and deafening.

She palmed her pistol and stepped carefully through the corridor, scanning as she went. From inside, the ship looked intact. Based on the impact site and size of the crater, she expected more of a wreckage, but it was pristine. Not a single exposed wire or panel out of place.

Halfway down the corridor, the white lights suddenly blew brighter, and the ceiling panels swivelled to reveal a row of nozzles. Before she could hold her breath, a thick fog fumed from them and filled the hallway. It settled on her skin and in her lungs, leaving her lightheaded and tingling.

Just as suddenly, the fog dissipated. She blinked, her vision swaying double. The lights slowly dimmed back to normal and a door ominously opened at the other end of the hall. She shook off the sudden, splitting headache, and told herself it was probably just the ship’s decontamination protocol.

When she reached the doorway, she pressed her back to the frame and cautiously peered over her shoulder into the vaulted room beyond, pistol ready.

Inside, monitors lined the cylindrical room. It looked like a command deck, with a platform in the centre that overlooked the stations, similar to Normandy’s setup but on a much larger scale. Overhead, a ceiling of crosshatched glass and beams created a polyhedric observatory. She imagined that, at one point, it offered an incredible view of the galaxy.

Instead, buried deep beneath molten stone, it only made her claustrophobic to look up.

Seeing that it was clear, she stepped inside. She investigated the stations, but none of them responded. It wasn’t until she stepped up to the central rise that something activated – a triangular panel peeled back from the floor, and a hive of pillars slowly rose. They stopped when they reached shoulder height, and she had to peek up on her tiptoes to see the interface.

More alien symbols, and a place to rest her hand.

Randomly pressing things had gotten her this far, so she went with it. The moment she touched the pillar, she felt a warm humming in her fingertips. The ship reacted, awakening. All the displays lit up at once, running diagnostics, blaring symbols at her that she couldn’t keep up with or understand.

On the other side of the room, a hatch opened and the sound of marching echoed through the ship. Shepard braced herself — and nearly collapsed when she saw them.

Keepers. Scuttling in a line, encircling the room.

Shepard had never seen so many of them gathered like this before. On the Citadel, they were mechanical drones, repairing and maintaining the colossal station throughout the aeons. They never spoke. Never slowed or slept or showed signs of hostility. But, even though they seemed harmless, they were sleeper agents for the Reapers, standing by to activate the Citadel’s backdoor for total galactic annihilation.

Shepard’s guard was fully up as the last one filed into the room. The Keepers stared at her. Watching.

Waiting.

“Commander Shepard, Spectre. I’ve been stranded on this planet for almost two months – can you tell me where we are?” she asked.

They continued to stare wordlessly.

“Do you understand me?” she tried again.

More staring.

“Take me to your leader?” she asked, wincing at how cheesy she sounded.

If only Garrus could see her now. The teasing would be ruthless.

Finally, one of the Keepers stepped forward. It moseyed towards a door at the far end of the room, then stopped, slowly turned, and waited. “You want me to follow you?” Shepard asked, not expecting an answer. But the Keeper tilted its head in a slight nod.

She had never seen a Keeper respond to anything before – hell, she’d even seen them keep watering the gardens while Cerberus rained gunfire down on the Presidium.

“Alright then,” Shepard said. “Lead the way.”

…

She followed the Keeper down a long corridor that branched off in multiples directions. She tried to keep track of their pathing but became helplessly lost the further they went. Finally, it stopped in front of an archway.

“This it?” she asked. The Keeper bent its head again, then scuttled back the way they came. “Please don’t be Reapers, please don’t be-,” she said as she stepped into a massive, open space, full of cryopods.

They were similar to the Prothean pods they’d found on Ilos, with the mass majority tucked into tubes along the walls. And there were millions of them. Maybe billions. There was no way to tell how long they’d been here, since it seemed the Keepers had been maintaining this station like they did on the Citadel.

They could be Protheans. They could be even more ancient than that.

There was only one way to find out.

She tentatively approached the closest one. Through its glass window, she couldn’t see beyond the swirling mist that entombed whatever creature lay in cryo sleep. She found the pod’s interface and tried a few different inputs. After a couple minutes, she’d pressed enough different symbol combinations that the panel blacked out, and the pod suddenly initiated its thaw.

The cryo pod cracked open and mist seeped out, pooling at Shepard’s feet. As the hatch peeled back, she finally saw what lay inside.

A Reaper.

No. Not a Reaper.

The species had the same tick-shaped head as the Reapers and Leviathan, but it was the same size as most humanoids, and its body was long and lithe, like a praying mantis. It had obsidian-black skin that shimmered with a rainbow sheen, and shocks of neon reds, oranges, and yellows peeking out from folds in its carapace. Its eight eyes were closed, and as the cryostasis slowly seeped from its body, its chest began to rise and fall.

Shepard held her breath, finger poised on her pistol’s trigger. If it charged at her like Grunt had when he first woke up, she’d be ready.

One by one, its eyes opened. Its irises were pale grey, streaked with flecks of the same bright colours that highlighted its body. It stared up at her, placing its hands on either side of its pod. It began to rise but froze when it saw the gun.

“Easy,” Shepard said. She lowered her pistol, keeping her finger near the trigger. The creature blinked at her.

“Xu sha xi, uhn unna, shellah xi?” it asked. At least, she assumed it was asking her something based on the inflection of its voice. Usually, her real-time translation implant converted any alien language into one she could understand. Either it was on the fritz, or it hadn’t encountered this language before and needed time to buffer.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” she tried again, softening her own tone. It watched her warily, octa-eying the gun. “Do you… understand me?”

It blinked at her again. Clearly, it did not.

“Val’shketh xu uhn din kathela xi. Kin xu coela dunna wa’eve,” it sighed at her. She detected a note of exasperation. It motioned to her pistol, unimpressed.

“Alright,” she said. She holstered her pistol and held up her hands, signalling her truce. The creature nodded, then sat up in the pod, mirroring her body language. It seemed to check its vitals, then peered around at the other pods.

“Si’isk,” it hissed, its eyes suddenly wide and watering. It tried to lift itself out of its pod, but its arms shook and it collapsed under its own weight.

Shepard reached out to steady it, but it suddenly snapped at her, its mandibles peeling back to reveal a row of razor-sharp teeth. She firmly met its gaze and maintained eye contact until it calmed. Then, she tentatively reached out again, bracing her hand underneath its arm to hoist it up.

This time, it accepted her help.

Once it was on its feet, it motioned towards the cryopod beside it. She guided it over, and the moment they reached the pod, it desperately tapped at the interface, its hand shaking, until the pod began to thaw. Its eyes anxiously scanned the glass until the mist dissipated, revealing a similar face asleep inside.

This one had softer features, and a sleeker form. Its dark skin shimmered emerald, with pale green and white highlights along the creases of its body. When its pale eyes opened, the other creature swept it up in its arms, burrowing its face into the creature’s neck.

It was like seeing long-lost lovers reunited. And Shepard couldn’t bare it.

She turned away, giving them privacy.

She gazed out at the pods. She wondered how long they’d been frozen. How long they’d been waiting for someone to stumble upon them. She figured they were just like the protheans – sealing themselves away on some obscure planet until the reaper threat was dealt with.

And which planet had they chosen to secret away to? If they’d been here for multiple life cycles – multiple reaper invasions – wherever it was, it had to be beyond the reaper’s reach.

She had so many questions, but she didn’t want to interrupt. Plus, she still couldn’t understand them as they spoke in a soft, intimate hush to each other.

Eventually, they remembered she was there. The emerald one eyed her warily, but the obsidian creature smiled at her, eyes shining bright with emotion.

“Kr’ck shah tauh. Kr’ck atha thalhu,” it said.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Shepard replied drily.

“Thalhu?” the other asked, its eyes narrowing. “Hun’ar es thalhu. Tauh esh uhn’lith.”

They continued to speak incomprehensibly at her. She tried to listen for a pattern, repeated words. But without context, she couldn’t make sense of it. She could only sense that the conversation was about her, and that the emerald one didn’t trust her.

Fair enough. She didn’t trust them either.

The discussion abruptly ended, with the emerald creature crossing its arms and glowering at her. The obsidian creature stepped forward, bowing slightly. “Tauh veh kel Nazara. Xi hesh si Ob’ren. Vish si Si’isk.” It motioned to itself when it said Ob’ren, and to its companion at Si’isk. She assumed those were their names.

“Commander Jane Shepard,” she pressed her hand to her chest. “Nazara,” she repeated, quieter. The word sounded familiar, and it dredged up a dread she couldn’t quite place from the pit of her stomach.

Why did that sound familiar?

Ob’ren straightened out and walked over to hexagonal tile on the floor. As they stepped onto it, a hive of pillars rose again, just like in the control room. Ob’ren swiped their hand across the glowing panel and an energy pulsed through the ship.

“Vu’ela tauh, Commander Jane Shepard,” Ob’ren said. As the wave washed over her, her head suddenly warped with pain. She weakly clutched at her forehead, suddenly boneless under the crushing pressure in her brain. She fell to her knees, and Ob’ren rushed over, cradling her. “Kr’ck vellah,” Ob’ren spoke, and their voice was nearly drowned out by the agony, “but this pain will pass.”

“If it isn’t strong enough to survive the Surge, it isn’t fit to survive at all,” Si’isk spat.

“Find mercy in your heart, Si’isk. This creature… this Commander Jane Shepard… woke us. We have too many questions to let them die, unanswered,” Ob’ren replied.

“What… did you… do… to me?” Shepard bit through gritted teeth. Surges of pain rocked her brain, slowly whittling away her consciousness. She tried to hold on, but every wave broke against her waning resolve, pulling her under a dark tide.

In that darkness, one last thought emerged from the deepest recesses of her mind.

Nazara.

Sovereign’s true name – the one it gave to the geth, before Saren gave it its title.

Dread coiled with the pain, twisting her up until that was all she was. All she felt. All she knew.

She surrendered to it, letting her consciousness fade to nothing.