Shepard
“Jane! Come on, it’s time to go!”
She turned to see Selvek waiting on the sidewalk, arms crossed as he pointed toward the ice cream stand they’d passed earlier.
“That’s my dad,” Jane said, hopping up. “I have to go. It was nice meeting you, …!”
She waved before dashing back toward Selvek.
“Wai—”
Shepard woke to the strange weight of an arm draped over her shoulder.
For a brief, disoriented moment, she wasn’t sure where she was. The haze of sleep still clung to her mind, keeping her caught between memory and reality. The warmth of another presence pressed against her back, steady and solid, like an anchor holding her to the moment.
Then, clarity seeped in.
Her bed. Her quarters.
Garrus.
She blinked, shifting slightly, just enough to confirm it. He was still there, still asleep, his arm resting loosely over her.
The realization made something unfamiliar coil in her chest—not discomfort, but awareness. She wasn’t in her armor anymore. Neither was he. And she was fairly certain he’d still been wearing it when he came in.
No. Hacked in.
She almost laughed at the thought. Why had he gone to such lengths? He didn’t need to be here. He didn’t need to deal with this. But he had. Willingly.
No. Not just willingly.
He wanted to be here.
“I’m here. You don’t have to do this alone.”
Shepard exhaled, adjusting slightly as she settled back against him more comfortably. She should get up—probably—but… she wasn’t ready.
Not yet.
The dream still lingered at the edges of her thoughts—that boy with the too-bright blue eyes and the name she could never hear. Twice now, her mind had reached back for him.
Why now?
She didn’t have an answer. Just the fading sense of safety the memory left behind.
Mind’s cruel that way, I guess.
She let out a deep breath, intending to push the thoughts aside, when she felt the faintest squeeze around her shoulders.
Garrus stirred. “I think I understand now where the pyjak came from,” he muttered sleepily, his voice raspier than usual.
Shepard chuckled. “Oh?”
“Do you have any idea how much you move in the middle of the night?” His voice was thick with exhaustion, edged with the kind of mild annoyance that wasn’t actually annoyed.
She grinned. “Can’t say anyone’s ever told me that before.”
Garrus huffed, still more asleep than awake. “It’s like sleeping next to a malfunctioning LOKI mech.”
Shepard laughed softly. “I think it was the dream I was having. In it, I was running back and forth across a park.”
Garrus let out a tired noise that might have been acknowledgment, or might have just been an attempt to go back to sleep.
“What?” he muttered after a moment.
“Just ignore it,” she said, letting herself enjoy this. Enjoy the weight of his arm, the warmth of his presence. “It’s an old memory.”
For a few more minutes, silence stretched between them. A quiet neither of them seemed in a rush to break. But, as always, the universe had other plans. The comms crackled to life.
“We should be arriving in Feros in about 3 hours, Commander,” Joker’s voice rang out, shattering the peace.
Shepard groaned, tilting her head back. “Do you think he ever sleeps?”
Garrus let out a half-chuckle, half-sigh, still not moving. “I’m convinced he doesn’t.”
He still hadn’t removed his arm.
And Shepard still wasn’t ready to move.
Not yet.
Garrus
Once they were about an hour out, Shepard called the team to the briefing room. Garrus filed in with the others, falling into place beside Tali as the crew gathered around the holo-display.
Shepard stood at the head of the room, hands braced on the railing, eyes scanning the mission reports Joker had pulled up on-screen. From a distance, she looked like her usual self—calm, focused, in control. But Garrus had spent enough time around her now to pick up on the cracks forming beneath the surface.
The slight tension in her shoulders. The way she exhaled just a little too slowly before speaking. The fact that she was gripping the railing like she needed something solid to ground her.
She was tired.
And not just need-a-few-hours-of-sleep tired. This was deeper. The kind of exhaustion that got into your bones and refused to let go. He had seen it before—in cops at C-Sec, in soldiers too stubborn to stop long enough to breathe. And he knew exactly what she was doing.
She was pushing through it. Because that was what Shepard did.
Garrus crossed his arms and leaned slightly against the back wall, waiting.
She took a steady breath and began. “We’ll be arriving at Feros within the hour. As of now, the colony’s status is unknown. ExoGeni lost contact shortly after geth sightings were reported. No further transmissions.” Her tone was clipped, efficient. “We don’t know what we’re walking into.”
There was a brief pause before she continued, her gaze sweeping across the team. “Garrus and Tali, you’re with me on the ground.”
Ashley straightened slightly. “Commander,” she started, carefully neutral, “why them? If the colony’s in trouble, wouldn’t it be better to take one of us?”
Garrus resisted the urge to sigh.
Shepard’s expression remained unreadable, but Garrus caught the flicker of irritation in her posture—the way her fingers tensed against the railing for just a second before she answered.
“Tali’s expertise with the geth is unmatched. If we’re dealing with them on the ground, I want someone who understands them better than they understand us.”
Tali perked up slightly at the acknowledgment, but stayed quiet.
Ashley hesitated, clearly ready to counter that point, but Shepard was already moving on.
“And I need a sniper with me,” she continued, shifting her attention toward Garrus. “If the geth are dug in, I want someone who can pick them off before they get too close. And his tech skills will also come in handy.”
Garrus nodded slightly, filing away the fact that Shepard trusted him enough to rely on him for both marksmanship and technical expertise.
Ashley frowned, clearly not expecting Shepard to have such quick, solid reasoning. She glanced at Kaidan, as if waiting for him to back her up, but he said nothing.
Instead, Ashley let out a quiet exhale, expression unreadable. She gave a single, short nod. “Understood, Commander.”
Garrus’ gaze flicked back to Shepard.
That should have been the end of it. But she didn’t immediately move on. Instead, she lingered for a half-second longer than usual, like she was bracing for another argument. When none came, something in her posture loosened—but only slightly.
She was worn down.
Not physically—not in a way that would make her weak in the field. But mentally. This wasn’t a debate she cared to have. Not because she didn’t believe in her choices, but because she just… didn’t have the patience for it.
It wasn’t frustration. It wasn’t stubbornness. She was drained.
Damn it, Jane.
She needed a few days to herself. Where she could stop being Commander Shepard. But he knew as well as she did that they didn’t have time for that right now.
She tapped a few keys on the console, pulling up the colony’s last known layout. “We’ll be landing at the primary colony site. First objective is to locate survivors, assess the threat, and secure the area if possible. Once we have a better idea of what’s happening, we’ll decide on next steps.”
She straightened. “Gear up. We move as soon as soon as we land.”
There were no further objections. The room emptied in an orderly shuffle, Tali giving Garrus a small, satisfied nod before heading off to prep. Ashley lingered for a second before following Kaidan out.
Garrus stayed put.
Shepard was still standing at the console, her fingers idly tapping against its surface, her eyes skimming over the information as if rereading the same details she had already committed to memory.
“Nice work,” Garrus said finally, voice lower than before.
Shepard glanced up, one brow raised. “You sound surprised.”
He smirked, pushing off the wall. “Not surprised. Just admiring how quickly you shut that down.”
Her lips quirked slightly at that, but there was no real humor in it. Just the ghost of a smirk.
“I don’t have time to argue over things that don’t need arguing,” she said simply.
Garrus studied her. That’s not the point and you know it.
Shepard didn’t wait for a response. She turned, already heading for the door. But just before she stepped through, she paused.
“I’ll meet you in the armory in twenty.”
Then she was gone.
Garrus exhaled, shaking his head slightly before turning to follow.
Twenty minutes. Enough time to get his gear in order. Enough time to make sure she wasn’t walking into this fight with more weight on her shoulders than she could carry. Because, tired or not, Shepard wasn’t the type to let herself slow down.
So if she couldn’t look out for herself…
Then he damn well would.
Garrus
The cargo bay was quiet except for the soft hum of lockers unlocking and the occasional click of weapons being checked and reassembled.
Garrus was methodical in his prep, sliding fresh thermal clips into place, recalibrating his rifle’s scope with practiced ease. Beside him, Tali was running an efficiency check on her shotgun’s heat dispersal, her fingers moving deftly over her omni-tool’s interface. She was muttering something about “improving cycle times” under her breath, half to herself, half to her weapon.
Then there was Shepard.
She was standing in front of her locker, hand resting against the inside, staring at the weapons lined up within. Not moving. Not speaking. Just staring.
Garrus slowed his own movements, watching out of the corner of his eye. To anyone else, it would have looked like she was just making a choice—figuring out her loadout for the mission. But he knew better.
She never hesitated when it came to weapons. Shepard made choices fast. She had to. He had never seen her pause like this before. She exhaled, so softly he almost didn’t hear it, then finally reached inside.
Her sniper rifle first. She checked its weight, pulled the scope to her eye for a second, then slotted it into place on her back. Then her assault rifle. Another test, another routine check. No hesitation.
But then her hand hovered over the M-77 Paladin.
And stopped.
The pistol sat on the rack, pristine and untouched since the last mission. Garrus had placed it in her locker just as she had asked him to. He had left it exactly where she had left it.
And now, she couldn’t pick it up.
He didn’t know how to explain it, but it was clear as day. Her fingers curled slightly, just short of touching it, her jaw tight, her eyes unreadable.
Then, without a word, she moved past it.
Her hand went to the other pistol. The old one. A Kessler IV, well-worn, modified in subtle ways that marked it as hers. She slid it free, checked the sights, and clipped it to her hip.
Just like that, the moment was gone.
Garrus didn’t say anything. He didn’t let his mandibles twitch or make some quip about the switch. He just filed it away—another crack in the unshakable Commander Shepard.
Tali, busy with her final calibrations, either didn’t notice or chose not to comment.
“Alright,” Shepard said, voice steady, like nothing had happened. She turned, her usual efficiency back in place. “Let’s move.”
Garrus slung his rifle over his shoulder and followed her and Tali out of the armory, through the CIC, and toward the Normandy’s airlock.
They were docking now. No drop shuttles, no orbital insertions. Just stepping from the safety of the ship straight into whatever mess had taken root on Feros.
Garrus glanced at Shepard as she walked ahead.
She was still the same—sharp, focused, steady. But now he knew. Beneath all of that, something was fractured.
He wasn’t sure what was going to happen when the cracks finally gave way.
But for now, she was still moving forward.
And so was he.
Shepard
When they landed on Feros, something was… odd. Shepard couldn’t quite place it. She wasn’t sure what she had expected but something was off. And it wasn’t just the geth attack. Certainly getting attacked by geth before they even left the dock didn’t help.
“Oh no, more jumping spiders.” She called out, but Garrus was already on them.
As they reached Zhu’s Hope, the colony, the feeling of unease only deepened the more colonists the spoke to. They seemed, cagey, maybe. But she wasn’t even certain that was the right word.
“Anyone else get this weird feeling that the colonists are hiding something?” Shepard asked as she looked towards Garrus and Tali.
“They do seem rather… secretive.” Garrus agreed.
Shepard could see her own emotions mirrored in his expression.
But Shepard wasn’t one to turn down helping people just because they acted strange or ungrateful.
The colonists needed supplies. Food. Water. Power. Standard requests, nothing unusual—except for the way they asked. Or didn’t ask. The words came out wrong, stilted, like they were forcing themselves to speak.
And then there was the one in the lower ruins. Hiding. In pain. Every time he tried to say something, his whole body seized. Like the words themselves were hurting him.
What the hell is going on here?
She filed it away. They needed to deal with the geth first.
The apparent source of the geth was a ship that had attached itself to the ExoGeni headquarters. To get there they’d need to cross an exposed skybridge.
“And now to the geth base,” Garrus quipped but appeared to think better of it. “Not something an intelligent being would typically say.”
Shepard laughed, “Come on, Vakarian, you’re driving us there.”
Garrus rolled his eyes with exaggerated annoyance. “One of these days I’ll teach you how to drive.”
“I know how to drive,” she quipped. “But you seem to like it more.”
“Because I value my life,” he shot back, heading for the driver’s seat.
The skyway stretched ahead of them, exposed and vulnerable. Halfway across, a cluster of ExoGeni employees huddled together—clearly running on fumes.
The moment they stepped out of the Mako, a sharp voice cut through the air.
“That’s close enough.”
A man stood at the front of the group, attempting to sound authoritative, his whole body radiating paranoid tension. She recognized the type immediately—mid-level management, just enough authority to be dangerous, not enough sense to use it well.
“Relax, Jeong,” a woman beside him said, Juliana Baynham, weariness evident in her voice. “They’re obviously not geth.”
As the conversation continued, Shepard’s patience wore thinner with every evasive answer. Jeong was hiding something—she could see it in every nervous deflection, every warning about “private property” and “proprietary information.” He knew why the geth were here. He just wasn’t saying.
“Ignore him.” Juliana said, rolling her eyes. “The geth are up in the ExoGeni headquarters. Just a bit further along the skyway.”
“Those headquarters are private property, soldier. Remove the geth and nothing else.” Jeong interjected, and that was the final straw for Shepard.
“Enough.” Shepard snapped. “I’m not interested in your company secrets. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some geth to take care of.”
“Commander, before you go…. ” Juliana began as she reach for Shepard’s arm “My daughter, Lizbeth. She’s missing….”
Shepard turned to face Juliana directly, deliberately putting her back to Jeong. “Where is she?”
“She was working in the ExoGeni building when the attacks came.”
“They shouldn’t waste time poking around,” Jeong cut in immediately. “We can do a proper accounting of our casualties after the geth are gone.”
Shepard went very still. Then glanced back to Garrus “Garrus, can you…” she paused doing her best to keep her composure, “please take Mr. Jeong here, and make him comfortable…anywhere but here.”
Garrus stifled a laugh before moving to grab Jeong’s arm. “Of course, Commander.” he nodded as he grabbed Jeong by the arm. A security guard debated moving, but it was obvious he thought better of it.
Shepard was certain she could see a faint smile on Juliana’s lips as Garrus escorted him away, but then she turned back to Shepard to explain where she might find her daughter, Lizbeth.
Much like Juliana, the remaining employees also with them, didn’t seem to share Jeong’s reservations. Quite the opposite. Several asked her to go through their terminals and transfer data to OSDs since it was now too dangerous for them to get there.
As they started back toward the Mako, Tali was shaking her head. “What is it about you that makes people assume we enjoy being in harm’s way?” she remarked almost annoyed.
“Maybe because that’s what we do all the time, Tali,” Shepard retorted. “Let’s move out.”
The rest of the way across the skyway was a bit more eventful than the first half. It was obvious the geth had setup more resistance they closer they got to the ExoGeni headquarters. A few juggernauts, some armatures, and more than a few rocket troopers. Nothing they couldn’t handle. And as always, Garrus drove while she manned the guns. A perfect partnership if there ever was one she chuckled to herself.
Once they reached the headquarters, it wasn’t long before they found a survivor. She shot at them. Lucky for them…she was definitely a scientist and not a soldier.
“Damn it!” she shouted, almost as if she had scared herself. “I’m so sorry. I thought you were geth, or one of those varren.”
Shepard put her pistol away, motioning she wasn’t a threat. “You’re safe now. But why were you here in the first place?”
“It’s my own fault. Everyone else was running and I stayed to back up data.” she sighed before continuing. “Next thing I knew, the geth ship latched on and the power went out.”
“You’re Lizbeth?” Garrus asked.
“I…yes. How do you–” she began, confusion evident in her expression.
Shepard breathed a sigh of relief. “Your mother asked us to find you.”
“She’s alive? Thank God. I thought I was the only one left.” Lizbeth replied.
“Alright, stay put and out of sight. We’ll get you out as soon as we find out what the geth are after.”
“It’s not the geth; it’s the energy field they put up. They don’t want anyone else getting access to the–” Lizbeth stopped herself and it suddenly became very obvious that whatever ExoGeni was doing, whatever Jeong was protecting, was the reason the geth were here.
“I’m here for the geth. It’s very important that I find out what they’re after.” Shepard pressed.
“I don’t know for certain, but I’m guessing they’re here for the Thorian.” Lizbeth responded, her gaze turning downward.
“Thorian? What is that, exactly?” Tali questioned rather confused.
Lizbeth went on to explain it was a native being, but overall said she knew very little, but gave them her access card so they could get through the building. As they made their way through the ExoGeni headquarters, they came across a VI that laid it all out in corporate sterility—what the Thorian was, how ExoGeni had “allowed” the colonists to become unwilling test subjects. Shepard’s jaw tightened as the VI droned on, clinical and detached.
ExoGeni had done this. On purpose.
And now all the pieces came together. She fully understood why the colonists were acting so strange. Another crisis born of neglect, indifference, and in this case profit.
It never ends.
Shepard
After returning to the ExoGeni employees and learning the truth about the Thorian, Shepard realized they needed a way to save the colonists without killing them.
Juliana had an idea. They’d developed an insecticide containing trace amounts of a nerve agent—generally harmless, but with the colonists’ compromised immune systems, it should be enough to paralyze without killing.
Tali suggested adapting concussion grenades for dispersal.
The ride back was fast. They needed to reach the colony before the Thorian turned the colonists into weapons.
Shepard wasn’t even sitting, bracing herself against the interior of the Mako as Garrus pushed the throttle forward, weaving between debris at a pace that would have made Joker proud. Tali, hunched over her omni-tool, kept recalibrating the grenade modifications, muttering calculations under her breath.
“Almost done,” she announced, the sharp tap of her fingers against her omni-tool’s interface barely audible over the hum of the Mako’s engines. “The compound should disperse evenly in the air, but we won’t know for sure until we deploy it.”
Shepard nodded. “As long as it works.”
The second the Mako screeched to a stop outside Zhu’s Hope, she was out the door, grenades in hand.
They breached the colony’s perimeter just in time to see the colonists already in position—weapons raised, waiting for them. And behind them, creepers.
Shepard didn’t hesitate. “Tali, grenades!”
Tali was already arming the first one. With a flick of her wrist, the grenade arced through the air, landing dead center among the colonists. The nerve agent burst outward in a thin mist.
One by one, the colonists staggered—then collapsed, their bodies going limp. Not dead. Just unconscious.
But the creepers kept coming. Shepard’s rifle snapped up, firing in controlled bursts as Garrus took position beside her. More grenades flew. More colonists dropped.
And finally, it was over.
Silence settled over Zhu’s Hope like an uneasy fog.
Garrus lowered his rifle, scanning the area. Creepers lay dead. The colonists lay still—but breathing.
Shepard was already moving, checking pulses. One after another, confirming they were alive. She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
“They’re stable,” she said, standing. “It worked.”
Tali exhaled, dropping back onto a nearby crate. “Good. Because I was not looking forward to explaining to the Council why we murdered an entire colony.”
Garrus let out a dry chuckle.
Shepard adjusted her grip on her rifle, glancing toward the entrance to the Thorian’s lair.
“Let’s finish this.”
Garrus
The fight with the Thorian wasn’t brutal—just exhausting. They’d torn through wave after wave of creepers, the asari clone reappearing again and again, thrown at them like an expendable puppet.
And through it all, Shepard never slowed. Not when the air grew thick and stale, not when the ground trembled with every tendril they destroyed, not when the Thorian let out a bone-deep shriek as it fell into the depths below.
Now, finally, it was over. Or so Garrus thought.
Then one of the Thorian’s hanging pods burst. A real asari collapsed forward, gasping. Not a clone. The source.
“I’m free,” she exhaled, almost in disbelief. Then, with more certainty: “I suppose I should thank you for releasing me.”
Shepard was already moving toward her. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?”
Of course she asked. It didn’t matter how much damage she’d taken, how long she’d been fighting—her first instinct was always concern for someone else.
The asari hesitated before answering. “I am fine. Or I will be. In time. My name is Shiala. I serve—” A pause. “I served Matriarch Benezia. When she allied herself with Saren, so did I.”
Garrus watched Shepard carefully. Benezia. Another piece of the puzzle clicking into place.
Shiala explained everything. Benezia had gone to stop Saren, not aid him. But his ship, Sovereign, emitted something—a field. Indoctrination. It convinced people to follow him, twisted their minds until they couldn’t tell loyalty from compulsion.
Shepard let out a quiet, bitter exhale. “Well, because we needed more problems…”
Her frustration was clear, but it was nothing compared to what came next.
“Saren sought the Thorian to learn its secrets,” Shiala continued. “But Saren also knows you are following him. He attacked the Thorian so you couldn’t obtain the Cipher.”
Shepard’s head snapped up. “The Cipher?”
Something in Garrus’ gut twisted. He didn’t know what it was yet, but he already didn’t like it.
“The beacon on Eden Prime gave you visions,” Shiala explained. “But they were meant for a Prothean mind. They remain unclear, fragmented—because you do not think like a Prothean. To truly comprehend them, you must understand their culture, their history, their very existence.”
Garrus’ mandibles flicked as realization dawned. No. No, she’s not seriously—
“So the Thorian taught Saren to think like a Prothean,” Shepard pressed. “How?”
Damn it!
Garrus immediately cut in. “Shepard—I know where you’re going with this.”
She turned to him, her gaze softer than her tone. “I don’t have a choice, Garrus.”
She did. She had to. Because if she didn’t, then this was always going to end with her carrying this burden alone.
Shiala nodded. “There is a way. I can transfer the knowledge from my mind to yours, as I did with Saren.” Her eyes locked onto Shepard’s. “Try to relax, Commander. Slow, deep breaths.”
Garrus stepped closer. He didn’t know what was about to happen, but he sure as hell was going to be here when it did.
The moment Shiala touched her, Shepard’s breath caught, her body tensing. Then—a shift. She swayed, blinking rapidly as if her vision had blurred, her balance wavering. Garrus stepped forward instantly, catching her arm before she could stumble.
“Jane?” His voice was low, steady. Grounding.
Shepard’s fingers gripped his armor, her pupils slightly dilated as she tried to focus. She let out a slow, uneven breath.
“I—” Her voice was strong, but unsteady.
She blinked hard, exhaling sharply as if shaking off the lingering sensation. Garrus didn’t let go.
Her breathing was evening out, but he could still see the way she lingered in that moment, absorbing what had just happened.
“I see it now. More pieces. But—” She pressed her fingers lightly to her temple. “It’s still fragmented.”
Shiala, still weak, lifted her head. “You have been given a great gift, Shepard. The experience of an entire people. Your mind will need time to process. To make sense of it.”
Garrus’ grip on Shepard didn’t loosen. He watched as she rubbed her temples, steadying herself. He had seen her pushed to her limits before, but never like this. Then again, he hadn’t been there the first time she interacted with the beacon.
Still—this was different. Because he couldn’t tell himself she had a choice. And that scared him. He wanted to believe she could get a break, that this didn’t have to fall on her. But it did.
There were only two people in the galaxy who had this vision. Saren and Shepard.
And Saren wasn’t going to stop. Which meant neither could she.
Garrus’ mandibles twitched, uneasy. Something had shifted.
And for the first time, he understood the weight she was carrying.
And he hated it.
Garrus
Back on the Normandy, Shepard didn’t waste a second. After stopping by the armory, she called all senior crew for debriefing.
Garrus watched her, standing just off to the side as the others filed in. She looked awful. The Cipher had taken its toll, and even now, she was moving on sheer willpower alone. Her breathing was still uneven, the slight unsteadiness in her movements wasn’t obvious to the others, but he could hear her heartbeat—off rhythm, too fast.
She was one wrong step from collapsing.
“Commander? You look… pale,” Liara noted, concern laced with clinical curiosity. “Are you suffering any ill effects from the Cipher?”
Shepard rubbed her temples, the fatigue bleeding through her features before she forced them neutral again. “The Cipher shook me up a bit.”
Garrus didn’t miss the way her fingers briefly trembled against her forehead before she dropped her hand.
“I might be able to help you,” Liara offered, stepping forward. “I am an expert on the Protheans. If I join my consciousness to yours, perhaps we can make sense of it.”
Shepard let out a breath, slow and measured, but Garrus knew what that sigh meant. She was already resigned to doing whatever was necessary, which meant she was about to push herself even further.
“Do it,” Shepard said. “Hurry. We don’t have much time.”
Garrus didn’t like this. Not again. He clenched his jaw, staying where he was, but his muscles tensed, ready to step in the second she needed him.
Liara moved toward her, deliberate and careful, pressing her hands to either side of Shepard’s head. “Relax, Commander. Embrace eternity.”
Garrus braced himself.
He had never seen a meld before, not like this. Shepard didn’t cry out or collapse, but the moment their minds connected, her breath hitched, and he saw the tension coil in her shoulders. It wasn’t violent—just dizzying.
When Liara finally pulled back, Shepard took a half-step backward, unsteady. Garrus was already moving before he could stop himself, a hand hovering at her back. She caught herself. Barely.
“You are remarkably strong-willed, Commander,” Liara said, her voice tinged with something close to awe. “What you’ve been through, what you’ve seen, would have destroyed a lesser mind.”
“So you’ve mentioned.” Shepard’s voice was a little rougher, but she stayed upright, shaking it off. “Did you see anything?”
Garrus watched her closely. She wasn’t going to collapse outright, but she was exhausted. How much more can she take?
“The beacon on Eden Prime must have been badly damaged,” Liara said, frowning in thought. “Large parts of the vision are missing. The data transferred into the commander’s mind is incomplete.”
Shepard let out a breath, frustration flickering in her expression. “Are you telling me you can’t make any more sense of it than I can?”
“I was able to interpret what was there,” Liara admitted, “but something is missing.”
Garrus noticed the way Shepard’s fingers curled into fists at her sides. She was holding herself together, but barely.
“Saren must have the missing information,” Liara continued, shaking her head. “Maybe he found another beacon. If we can locate the missing data, I can—”
Liara suddenly staggered. Shepard caught her instantly.
“I’m sorry,” Liara murmured. “The joining is… exhausting. I should go to the medical bay and lie down for a moment.”
Shepard nodded. “Thanks, Liara. Get some rest.”
Garrus exhaled through his nose. Shepard should be doing the same. She wasn’t even giving herself a minute before moving on to the next thing.
He wasn’t even surprised when Joker’s voice crackled through the comms. “I’ve sent off the Feros report, Commander. You want me to patch you through to the Council?”
Shepard turned toward Garrus, motioning for him to stay. His mandibles twitched. That was never a question. He wasn’t leaving her alone for this.
“Patch them through,” Shepard answered.
“Setting up the link now, Commander.”
And then—there they were. The Council.
“Commander,” Tevos said, her tone measured, impassive. “ExoGeni should have told us about the Thorian. It would have made your job much easier.”
Garrus had barely seen them before meeting Shepard—probably more times in the last few weeks than in his entire life. And every time, it made his mandibles tighten in irritation.
“You might have been able to capture it for study instead of destroying it,” Valern chastised.
But this? This made him furious. To actually watch them question her, to see the way they dismissed her—
Garrus could see the edges of Shepard’s patience fraying.
“The Thorian liked to enslave minds,” Shepard said, her voice still controlled, but sharp at the edges. “Anyone who studied it would have ended up as one of its thralls.”
Is it always like this? he wondered. Did they always question her like this? Had they ever questioned Saren this way?
“Perhaps it’s for the best, then,” Tevos conceded. “At least the colony was saved.”
“Of course it was saved,” Sparatus scoffed. “Shepard would go to any lengths to help a human colony.”
Garrus’ jaw clenched.
He looked at Shepard—watched as she pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling briefly before responding. “Being human had nothing to do with it. They were in trouble.”
“Admirable,” Valern said, with all the warmth of a bureaucrat filling out paperwork. “But sometimes Spectres have to make sacrifices. I hope you’re willing to do that when the time comes.”
And that was it. That was all they had to say.
“Goodbye, Commander,” Tevos added. “We look forward to your next report.”
The call cut out. The comm room was silent.
For a moment, Garrus just stared at the now empty holopad. He hadn’t expected to feel this angry. He had known bureaucracy was a mess, had seen politics get in the way of justice at C-Sec. But this was different. Because this was Shepard. Because he had just watched them question her integrity, her choices—without hesitation, without care. Because he had seen her give everything, again and again, and still be doubted.
And he hated it.
“Do you, though?” Shepard muttered at the empty space, shaking her head.
Then—she turned to him. And just like that, the irritation in her expression softened. She gave him a tired smile, but it was real. The kind meant for him.
And Garrus sighed.
“Come on, Jane,” he muttered, stepping forward. “You need to get to bed.”
Shepard
The walk to her quarters felt longer than it should have.
Shepard wasn’t sure if it was the exhaustion dragging at her limbs or if the weight pressing behind her eyes was making the corridors stretch endlessly ahead. Probably both.
She barely registered Garrus falling into step beside her, keeping pace, saying nothing. She was grateful for that.
The mess hall came and went in a blur. She knew why she had stopped, her hands absently reaching for a couple of glasses, but the action felt distant, automatic. She barely noticed when Garrus took them from her before she could drop them.
“Come on, Jane,” he murmured, guiding her toward her quarters.
She let him.
The doors hissed open, and she stepped inside, blinking at the dim lighting. It should have been comforting. Instead, the silence pressed in around her, thick and stifling.
Shepard exhaled slowly, rolling her shoulders, trying to shake it off.
The bottles were where she had left them—one of turian brandy, one of whiskey. She had meant to put them away. Now, she didn’t care.
She reached for them, but Garrus was already there, setting the glasses down, picking up the bottles himself.
“Sit.” His voice was steady, no room for argument.
She should have argued. She always did. Instead, she sank onto the edge of the bed, hands resting loosely between her knees, watching as he poured.
The scent of the whiskey hit her first—rich, familiar, warm. Then the brandy, sharp but smooth.
Shepard took the glass he handed her, staring at it for a long moment before taking a slow sip.
The alcohol burned, but not enough.
Her gaze drifted to the far wall, unfocused. Thoughts flickered and frayed at the edges of her mind, refusing to settle.
Garrus sat beside her, his own glass barely touched. He wasn’t watching her outright, but she felt it anyway—the way he tracked every shift, every breath.
“You’re quiet,” he said eventually.
Shepard hummed, tilting her glass slightly, watching the liquid swirl. “Too tired to talk.”
He nodded like he expected that answer. Like he already knew.
She took another sip, slower this time. It should have settled her, but the restless hum under her skin wouldn’t go away.
Too much. Too fast. Her mind was still catching up, still trying to process everything. The Cipher. The vision. Saren.
She closed her eyes, exhaling through her nose.
“You’re thinking too hard,” Garrus murmured.
She cracked a tired smile. “Always.”
A pause. Then, softer—”Not tonight.”
Shepard turned her head, blinking at him.
His expression was unreadable, but his gaze was steady, unwavering. She could see the weight of everything he wasn’t saying—the worry, the frustration, the silent plea for her to just stop carrying the entire damn galaxy for one night.
Bright blue eyes.
The thought drifted through her mind, unbidden. Familiar, somehow. Like she should know why they felt that way. But exhaustion pulled at the edges of her awareness, and the connection slipped away before she could catch it.
Her fingers flexed against the glass.
She wanted to tell him she was fine. That she just needed a drink, just needed a moment. But the words felt too heavy, too empty.
So instead, she let herself lean—just enough that their shoulders brushed, just enough that his presence felt real beside her.
Garrus didn’t move away. Didn’t say anything. He just stayed.
And for now, Shepard let herself breathe.