Shepard
Shepard and Garrus stood in the cockpit, watching the approach. This was always one of her favorite moments—arriving somewhere new. It was a stark contrast to the slow, weightless drift of deep space. Out there, everything felt still, endless, and empty. But docking? Docking was fast. Precise. It reminded her just how small they really were in the vastness of the galaxy.
The icy mass of Noveria loomed ahead, stark and unforgiving.
Joker’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. “Approach Control, this is the SSV Normandy. Requesting a vector and a berth.”
Shepard smirked, watching as Joker shifted into his ‘official’ voice. He was cocky, insubordinate, and had entirely too much attitude for the military, but she had to admit—he was damn good at his job. When it came down to it, there wasn’t a pilot she trusted more.
A beat of silence. Then—
“Normandy, your arrival was not scheduled. Our defense grid is armed and tracking you. State your business.”
Joker rolled his eyes, already over this conversation before it had even started. “Citadel business. We’ve got a Council Spectre aboard.”
Another pause, this one more wary. “Landing access granted, Normandy. Be advised: we will be confirming identification on arrival. If confirmation cannot be established, your vessel will be impounded.”
Shepard exchanged a look with Joker. As if that would ever happen.
Joker sighed dramatically, throwing his hands up. “What a fun bunch. I think I’ll take my next leave here.”
“I’m sure they’d love you, Joker,” Garrus said dryly. “Right up until they have to arrest you.”
Shepard smirked, pushing off the console. “Just don’t get the ship impounded while I’m gone.”
“No one is touching my baby, Commander. You know that.”
With that, she turned and headed toward the cargo bay with Garrus at her side.
The hum of the ship shifted as the Normandy began its descent. Shepard made her way to her locker, fingers ghosting over her weapons.
Her hand hovered over the M-77 Paladin. The grip was worn in, familiar. Nihlus’ pistol. She had carried it since Eden Prime, a quiet tribute to her first loss in this fight.
She swallowed, then slowly her hand moved to the Kessler pistol instead.
It was time.
“It’s time to rest, Nihlus. Goodbye.”
A small smile flickered at the edge of her lips. It wasn’t grief—not exactly. It was something else. Something like peace.
Nihlus had been important. He had been something more—or at least, she thought he could have been. But now, with distance, she was beginning to realize what they had would have never been anything serious. It had been exciting, fast, intense—but fleeting.
She hadn’t seen it then. Maybe she was convincing herself now.
Or maybe there was—
“Shepard, you ready?” Garrus’ voice cut through, pulling her back.
She turned, catching the way his bright blue eyes were looking at her. The way they always did. A quiet curiosity, maybe concern. Her smile softened, something shifting in her chest.
“Let’s get this over with.”
He fell into step beside her.
And just like that, everything seemed right.
Shepard
Shepard and Garrus stepped off the Normandy’s ramp and into the icy glare of Noveria’s docking bay. The sleek, polished floors and controlled climate contrasted sharply with the towering white peaks visible beyond the docking windows. It should have felt sterile, efficient—but Shepard already knew better.
Bureaucracy. Red tape. More hoops to jump through.
And, given the half-dozen guards already positioned in their path, this was going to be yet another exercise in patience.
“This should be fun…” Shepard muttered under her breath. “You think they do this for all Spectres, or just me?”
Garrus huffed, adjusting his rifle against his back. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m sure they do it for anyone who doesn’t work for these corporations.”
“Somehow, that doesn’t.”
The guards held their ground as they approached, hands near their weapons. Shepard and Garrus slowed, exchanging a look but stopping just short of forcing a confrontation.
“That’s far enough,” the lead guard said, raising a hand as if to halt them.
Shepard raised a brow. Really?
“Something wrong, officer?” Shepard asked, keeping her voice even, though she already knew this was going to be a waste of time.
“You better hope there isn’t,” one of the guards beside her snapped.
Shepard’s jaw tensed. She already didn’t like this one—something about her posture, the way she held herself, was off. Not just protocol-following. This was personal.
“This is an unscheduled arrival,” the lead officer continued, ignoring her subordinate’s outburst. “I need your credentials.”
Shepard smirked, arms crossing loosely over her chest. “You first.”
“We’re the law here,” the same hostile guard barked. “Show some respect!”
Shepard tilted her head slightly, studying her. Was that supposed to intimidate me?
The lead officer gave her subordinate a sharp look, silently telling her to stand down.
“I’m Captain Maeko Matsuo, Elanus Risk Control Services,” Matsuo said.
“Commander Shepard,” she replied, meeting her gaze without hesitation. “Council Spectre.”
“Load of horsecrap, ma’am,” the other guard muttered.
Shepard’s smirk flattened. She had been trying to stay patient—she really had—but there was something about this, about them, that made it harder. Do they really not know who I am, or do they just not care?
“We’ll need to confirm that,” Matsuo said quickly, before her subordinate could escalate things further. “Also, I must advise you that firearms are not permitted on Noveria. Sergeant Stirling, secure their weapons.”
The woman—Stirling, apparently—looked far too pleased with herself as she stepped forward.
Garrus didn’t let her.
In one fluid motion, he drew his rifle, holding it across his chest. Not pointed, not a direct threat—just present. A warning.
The three guards immediately raised their weapons in response, forming a tense standoff. Shepard smirked, glancing at Garrus out of the corner of her eye. Always ready.
“Citadel authority supersedes yours,” Garrus said coolly. His tone left no room for debate.
Shepard let her smirk widen as she turned back to Stirling. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice deceptively light. “But I don’t trust you enough to leave myself unarmed. And I know you don’t get to disarm a Council Spectre.”
“We are authorized to use lethal force, Commander,” Matsuo said, her voice firm but measured.
Shepard’s gaze flicked to Garrus. Three guards. That’s it? She knew, with absolute certainty, that if this went south, Garrus would have them down before she even reached for her weapon. Her hand hovered near her pistol—not in a direct threat, but a promise.
“Captain Matsuo!” A voice crackled over the comms, sharp and urgent. “Stand down! We confirmed their identity. Spectres are authorized to carry weapons here, Captain.”
Shepard exhaled slowly, shaking her head. “Now that sounds like the voice of reason.”
Matsuo hesitated, then reluctantly nodded, lowering her weapon. “You may proceed, Spectre,” she said evenly. “I hope the rest of your visit will be less confrontational.”
With a sharp gesture, she ordered her guards to step aside. Garrus relaxed, holstering his rifle again. As they walked past, Shepard could still feel the weight of Stirling’s glare burning into her back.
She didn’t care.
They made it halfway into the building before Garrus finally spoke. “So… were you planning to help back there, or…?”
Shepard chuckled, shaking her head. “You seemed to have it well in hand. You probably would’ve had them down before I got a shot in.”
Garrus scoffed, shaking his head, but she caught the amused flicker behind his narrowed gaze.
They reached the front desk just as a woman approached—tall, human, with dark hair pulled into a neat ponytail.
“I am Gianna Parasini, assistant to Administrator Anoleis,” she introduced herself smoothly. “We apologize for the incident in the docking bay.”
Shepard waved it off. “It’s fine.”
“One of my duties is orientation for new arrivals. Do you have any questions?”
Shepard kept her expression neutral. “Has anyone unusual passed through here recently?”
Parasini hesitated, considering. “Unusual? An asari Matriarch passed through a few days ago. Lady Benezia.”
Shepard stiffened, turning to Garrus. She immediately saw the same realization in his eyes. If Benezia was here, then…
“I need to see her right away,” Shepard said.
“Benezia left for the Peak 15 research complex days ago. To the best of my knowledge, she’s still there,” Parasini explained. “But you’ll need to ask Administrator Anoleis for permission to leave this port.”
Shepard exhaled sharply, feeling the beginnings of another bureaucratic headache. Spectres don’t have to follow any rules, they said. Spectres have free reign, they said. Spectres can go anywhere they want…Yeah. Right.
“Fine,” she muttered. “Can we see him now?”
“Yes,” Parasini nodded. “I’ll meet you on the main floor.”
As the woman walked away, Shepard tapped her comm. “Normandy, do you read?”
“Normandy here. Miss me already, Commander?” Joker’s voice crackled back, all smug amusement.
“Have Liara get suited up and meet me out here.”
“Aye, aye, Commander.”
Shepard exhaled, rolling her shoulders as she turned back to Garrus.
“Ready?” he asked, watching her carefully.
She smirked, her frustration fading just slightly. “If I said no would it make a difference?”
Shepard
By the time they had finally secured access to the garage, Shepard had just about reached her limit for bureaucracy.
Everything on this damn planet was a trade-off. A favor for a favor.
They had wasted hours jumping through hoops—getting a garage pass from Lorik Qui’in, dealing with Sergeant Stirling (at least she was dead now), then going another round to help Gianna Parasini take down Anoleis.
It’s never simple. Shepard sighed, rolling her shoulders as they walked.
She could have just walked out of the hotel bar with Qui’in’s pass and left it at that. But she hadn’t. Because as much as she wanted to pretend she was getting comfortable with the reality of being a Spectre, she wasn’t willing to stop being a soldier. Or maybe just a decent person.
There was a time to shoot it out and a time for diplomacy. The fact that she still knew the difference? It meant something.
Anoleis’ voice snapped her back to the present. “You! Shepard! I demand you place this bitch under arrest!”
Shepard arched a brow, arms crossing loosely over her chest. Really?
Gianna just shook her head, shoving a handcuffed Anoleis forward. “You have the right to remain silent. I wish to God you’d exercise it.”
Shepard smirked, shifting her weight slightly.
Gianna glanced back at her, grinning. “See you around the galaxy, Commander. I owe you a beer.”
Shepard could practically feel Garrus rolling his eyes beside her. She had caught his irritation more than once at how often she got pulled into other people’s problems. But he never said anything. And more often than not, beneath that frustration, she could see something else—approval. At least, that’s what she thought it was.
By the time they finally entered the garage, the irritation of bureaucratic nonsense had begun to fade—only to be replaced by something else.
The unmistakable whir of synthetic movement. Shepard barely had time to register it before they were under fire.
“We’ve got jumping spiders!” Shepard ducked behind a crate, yanking her pistol from its holster.
“Jumping… what?” Liara sounded thoroughly confused.
“The jumpy geth things,” Shepard clarified, popping out of cover just long enough to squeeze off a few rounds. These were fast. Faster than the ones on Feros.
“Dammit, Vakarian, will you shoot them already?”
“You do have guns, Jane,” Garrus retorted, but he was already dropping targets with ease.
Shepard groaned, feigning annoyance—but despite his quip, he was making quick work of the geth. If she was being honest with herself, she admired his marksmanship. There was a chance he was better than her with a sniper rifle.
She would never say it out loud.
As the last geth collapsed in a heap of metal and scorched circuits, the doors slid open, revealing Captain Matsuo and her team. Always late to the party.
“What are these things?” Matsuo demanded, stepping forward as her officers fanned out, securing the area. “Fan out and secure the area. No one gets in or out!”
Shepard holstered her pistol, already bracing for more red tape.
Matsuo turned sharply toward her. “What did you do here, Commander?”
Shepard stared. “Excuse me? We defended ourselves. I didn’t ask the geth to attack.”
“You expect me to—wait. Did you say geth? Where did they come from?” Matsuo’s posture shifted.
“If I were to guess,” Garrus interjected, “the Matriarch packed them in the shipping containers she arrived with.”
Liara’s breath caught audibly. “My mother brought these here?” Her voice was tight, strained. “But why would she—”
Matsuo hesitated. “I don’t… We scanned those…” But her voice had lost its edge. “If Benezia-sama’s containers were packed with these things, there are many more out there.”
“No,” Liara whispered, and Shepard caught the horror flickering across her face. The realization of what her mother had done, what she’d unleashed on this facility.
Shepard folded her arms. “How many more?”
“Dozens, at least. They’re machines. You could pack them tightly.” Matsuo’s voice was tight now, controlled.
Matsuo exhaled, nodding sharply. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to report to the Executive Board. If word gets out about loose geth, there may be an investor panic.”
And just like that, she turned, marching out of the garage with her team.
Shepard turned to Liara, whose gaze was fixed on the destroyed geth remains, expression drawn and distant. “Liara—”
“I knew she had changed,” Liara said quietly, not quite meeting Shepard’s eyes. “But to bring geth here, to endanger all these people…” Her voice wavered. “What has Saren done to her?”
Shepard’s chest tightened. She wanted to say something reassuring, something that would make this easier. But there was nothing. Benezia had made her choices, and they were running out of time to stop whatever came next.
“We’ll find her,” Shepard said, her voice steady. “And we’ll get answers.”
Liara nodded, but the weight of it still sat heavy in her expression. After a moment, she stepped away quietly, heading toward the Mako.
Shepard exhaled, letting her go. Then she shook her head, turning to Garrus. “Why does everyone assume I start the firefights?”
Garrus let out a dry chuckle. “That’s the problem with finishing them, Jane. They assume you started them.”
Shepard shot him a look. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
He shrugged. “Still true.”
Shepard rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t fight the smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. “Let’s get out of here,” she muttered, already making her way toward the Mako. “We need to find Benezia.”
Liara followed quietly, her usual curiosity replaced by something heavier—dread, maybe guilt.
And as always, without question, Garrus fell into step beside Shepard, a silent, steady presence at her side.
Shepard
The ride to Peak 15 had tested every ounce of Shepard’s patience.
“I’m warning you, Jane, you’re not going to like how the Mako drives here,” Garrus had told her before they even left the garage. “I’ll do my best to keep it steady, but ice, mountains, and Mako… not a good combination.”
She had shot him a glare at the time, though not because of him—because she already knew he was right. And spirits help her, he had really been right.
The Mako skidded more than it drove, sliding unpredictably across sheets of ice, tires fighting for traction on slick, uneven terrain. Stopping was a calculated risk. A wrong angle meant drifting down the incline at high speed. More than once, Garrus had to wrestle the controls to keep them from spinning out.
They had run into a few geth along the way—nothing they couldn’t handle—but fighting them while the Mako was barely obeying the laws of physics had not been ideal.
By the time they finally reached the garage at Peak 15, Shepard was more than ready to get out of the vehicle and never drive on ice again.
Garrus was already grinning as she stepped out. “I didn’t slide us off a cliff, so I’d call that a success.”
She shot him a look. “Barely.”
Unfortunately, stepping out of the Mako didn’t mean the job got any easier. They were immediately greeted by geth and a few krogan mercs. Shepard wasn’t surprised—Benezia packed reinforcements. The real surprise was that there weren’t more of them.
She and her team swept through them easily, making their way further inside. But as soon as they stepped off the elevator onto the main floor, something felt off.
The air was sharp and bitter. Snow covered the floor in uneven patches, the edges of the ice curling up in strange, unnatural formations. That meant the building must have been compromised somewhere—exposed to the outside elements.
Turians don’t like the cold.
Shepard didn’t even have to turn around to know Garrus was irritated.
“Turians don’t like the cold, Jane,” he muttered, confirming her thoughts. “Did I ever mention that?”
Shepard smirked. “You could have stayed on the Normandy, you know?”
“You asked me to come.”
“You agreed.”
Garrus narrowed his eyes at her. “Not the point.”
Shepard shrugged, a smile playing on her lips as she pushed forward.
Then they stepped into what must have once been the main room. Or at least, what remained of it.
Large structural beams hung loosely from the ceiling, frost creeping up the walls, the room itself coated in a thick, frozen mist. The dim, flickering lights did little to push back the darkness. The whole place looked abandoned—silent, save for the distant whir of broken machinery attempting to restart itself.
Suddenly, a new sound. Metal creaking. Something shifting above them. Then another sound—not just wind howling through the cracks in the building, but something higher-pitched. Almost shrieking.
Shepard immediately pressed her back to the nearest cover, pulling her gun.
“What was that?” Liara whispered.
The three of them instinctively moved closer together, covering all angles.
“Animals?” Garrus offered, though he didn’t sound convinced. “Wind? This place is in bad shape.”
Another shriek. Closer this time. A shadow flickered at the edge of her vision.
Then suddenly a swarm—small, skittering shapes burst from the vents, swarming toward them in rapid, jittering movements.
“What the hell are those things?” Garrus and Shepard yelled in unison.
They exchanged a brief glance, then opened fire. The creatures moved fast, but they weren’t heavily armored. It was their sheer numbers that made them a problem. Each time they dropped one, more took its place, moving unpredictably—some clambering onto the walls, others darting across the floor with unsettling speed.
Then, as suddenly as they had appeared, they were gone. The room was still again.
Shepard’s pulse was steady, but something about this whole situation made her uneasy.
Then came the second wave. But these weren’t small.
They emerged from the dark corners of the room, much larger than the first creatures. Spiders with tentacles, Shepard thought, though that wasn’t quite right either. The elongated forms, the unnatural way they moved—it set her nerves on edge.
Then one of them spit. A globule of something shot out at rapid speed, hitting a piece of overturned furniture. Within seconds, the furniture was dissolving.
“Watch out! They’re shooting acid,” Shepard warned, narrowly dodging as another glob hurtled past her head.
She shifted to the side, firing three precise shots into one of the creatures. It let out a piercing screech before collapsing.
After a tense, brutal few moments, they took down the last one. Shepard exhaled, rolling her shoulders.
Liara was still staring at the creatures, visibly shaken. “Xenobiology is not my field,” she said, shaking her head. “Maybe someone in the labs knows what they are.”
Shepard sighed. “Geth and giant acid-spitting insects… This day just keeps getting better.”
Garrus snorted. “I’m convinced you attract trouble, Jane.”
She smirked, sliding her pistol back into its holster. “Then you must like trouble, Garrus. You keep following me into it.”
Garrus huffed, but didn’t deny it.
Shepard just shook her head, glancing toward the broken hallway ahead. “Let’s keep moving. Whatever’s going on here, I want answers.”
“You know what would be great? Getting those answers somewhere indoors. Out of the cold,” Garrus muttered, the annoyance in his voice clear.
Shepard glanced back at him, smirking despite everything. “Next time I’ll be sure to pick a tropical warzone. Just for you.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
She shook her head, but the banter settled something in her chest. Even here, surrounded by frozen horrors and acid-spitting monsters, he was still Garrus. Still beside her.
And somehow, that made this slightly more bearable.
Shepard
Nothing was ever easy. Most of the station’s power had been shut off, landlines had been cut, the station’s VI was offline… Maybe Garrus was right. Maybe she did attract trouble. She certainly attracted work.
After getting everything back online, the VI reported what she’d expected: Benezia had already moved on to Rift Station via the passenger tramway. Which was, of course, currently inoperable.
It never ends.
And every step of fixing this station—which she still wasn’t sure why it was suddenly her job—came with those insect things. She had narrowly avoided getting hit with acid so many times that she’d lost count. And the geth. Starting the reactor had come with heavy geth resistance, probably the worst they’d seen so far.
Of course, that didn’t stop her from trying to unlock every locked door and crate along the way. A fact that seemed to annoy Garrus to no end.
“Garrus…” she asked, her voice sweeter than had ever come out of her mouth probably.
“No,” he said before letting her continue.
“But… don’t you want to know what’s inside?” she teased.
“Not particularly,” he said dryly.
“You know that I could just order you to do it,” Shepard said with no real heat behind her words.
“You could, but if you want it that badly you could just decrypt it yourself,” he replied.
“If I could, I would have done it already.”
“Then I guess you better figure it out,” Garrus said.
She stared at him for a while, saying nothing. She didn’t move, didn’t speak. Just waited.
Eventually he relented and decrypted the lock. “Fine, it’s done,” he said with a clear edge of frustration to his tone.
Shepard smiled triumphantly as she opened the locker he had just unlocked.
“Spirits help me,” he muttered.
But Shepard watched as his mandibles twitched in mild amusement.
After finally managing to get the tramway running again, they made their way to Rift Station and found a group of survivors. The only surviving scientist from the Hot Labs explained that the insect-looking things were rachni. Rachni. The species that was supposed to be extinct.
Shepard wasn’t naïve. She knew what the galaxy was. What corporations were like. An egg found on a derelict ship, and of course they’d hatched it. Because corporate science knew no bounds, and history never seemed to change no matter the consequences.
They bartered—because apparently even in the middle of a crisis, everyone wanted to trade favors—for yet another pass to reach the Hot Labs. More geth. More asari commandos this time.
Must be getting closer to Benezia.
When they finally reached the Hot Labs, Matriarch Benezia was waiting.
Shepard felt a stab of guilt for bringing Liara. Benezia’s demeanor was cold, calculating, utterly devoid of maternal warmth.
“What have you told them about me, Liara?” Benezia asked coldly.
“What could I say, mother? That you’re insane? Evil? Should I explain how to kill you? What could I say?” Liara shot back, her voice wavering.
“Have you faced an asari commando unit before? Few humans have,” Benezia replied, and attacked.
The fight was brutal. The commandos were skilled, their biotics ruthless, backed by geth that made everything worse. I wonder if I’ll get blamed for starting another firefight… Shepard mused, the thought unbidden even as she dropped another commando.
When the reinforcements finally stopped coming, they found Benezia again, standing near a much larger rachni specimen. But this time, she didn’t attack immediately.
“This is not over. Saren is unstoppable. My mind is filled with his light. Everything is clear,” Benezia said with cold certainty.
“The rachni didn’t cooperate with you, why should I?” Shepard shot back.
“I will not betray him. You will– You…” Benezia’s words faltered. Something shifted in her expression. “You must listen. Saren still whispers in my mind. I can fight his compulsions. Briefly. But the indoctrination is strong.”
Shepard exchanged a confused glance with Liara, then looked back to Benezia. “Why are you able to break free of his control now?”
Benezia explained, exhausted, how she’d sealed part of her mind away from the indoctrination—saved it for this moment. The Mu Relay. That’s what Saren had sent her here for. Information the rachni queen carried across generations, memories passed from mother to daughter, ripped from her mind by Benezia’s will.
“I transcribed the data to an OSD. Take it. Please,” Benezia said, walking toward Shepard. “I was not myself, but– I should have been stronger.”
But the relay’s location was all she had. No idea where Saren planned to go from there. And before Shepard could press further, Benezia began to lose control again.
“You have to stop– me. I can’t– His teeth are at my ear. Fingers on my spine. You should– Uh, you should–” Benezia clutched her head, fighting.
“Mother, I– Don’t leave! Fight him!” Liara cried out.
“You’ve always made me proud, Liara.”
Then Benezia attacked.
Another loss.
Shepard could see the toll this would take on Liara. All she could do was make sure Liara didn’t have to deliver the killing blow. She exchanged a knowing glance with Garrus. He nodded. They needed to take Benezia down before Liara could get a shot off.
And they did.
Liara ran to her mother before she fell to the ground. “Mother…”
“Good night, Little Wing. I will see you again with the dawn.”
Shepard turned away, giving Liara space. She stepped closer to the massive rachni specimen, the queen, giving Liara the privacy to grieve.
Then, at that moment, the queen seemed to take control of a dying asari’s mind, using her as a voice. “This one serves as our voice. We cannot sing. Not in these low spaces. Your musics are colorless.”
Telepathy. The rachni communicated through some form of telepathy.
As Shepard spoke with the queen, she began to understand. The rachni weren’t the monsters they’d been made out to be. During the rachni wars, something had controlled them—songs the color of oily shadows, the queen said. Whatever that meant.
“What will you sing? Will you release us? Are we to fade away once more?” the queen asked.
Shepard glanced back at Garrus, then at Liara. She was a soldier, but nothing about this conversation justified genocide. The queen was already going to kill her own children—they were too far gone to save. Shepard wouldn’t kill a sentient being pleading for her life.
“I won’t destroy your entire race. You’ll go free,” Shepard said, walking toward the console.
“You will give us the chance to compose anew? We will remember. We will sing of your forgiveness to our children.”
As Shepard released the queen, she couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope. Maybe atonement.
“Let’s just hope this doesn’t come back to bite me…” Shepard’s words trailed off as she turned back to her team.
Garrus
After setting off the neutron purge, the doors slammed shut behind them, sealing the burning hellscape of the Hot Labs away in an instant. Garrus exhaled sharply, shoulders tensing as the distant, muffled screeches of dying rachni faded into silence.
But that’s when it hit him. Blood.
The scent hit him before the realization did. His mandibles twitched. The last time he smelled this…
Jane.
She was walking ahead, too steadily. Like she was forcing it.
Garrus’ gut twisted. He caught up in two long strides, reaching for her arm. “Jane—”
“I’m fine,” she cut him off immediately.
She wasn’t. He knew that much—the smell of blood was overwhelming. His gaze dropped. Red. The side of her armor was smeared with blood. He didn’t even think, his hand hovering over his belt, reaching for more medi-gel.
She caught the movement. “Already used it.”
His jaw clenched. Not enough.
But before he could argue, Shepard pressed her hand against her side, flexing her fingers. The wound was still sluggishly leaking, but the medi-gel had stabilized the worst of it. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” she said, so damn casual. “Chakwas can look at it when we get back to the Normandy.”
Not good enough.
“Jane, you’re bleeding.”
“And I will still be bleeding in twenty minutes when we reach the ship.”
Spirits, she’s impossible.
Garrus exhaled sharply through his nose, forcing himself to let it go. He didn’t like it, but fine. Fine. If she was still walking, if she was still conscious, he’d give her that.
But she wasn’t for long. Suddenly, her steps slowed and then she stumbled.
Garrus caught her before she hit the floor. “Jane!” She didn’t respond.
“Shit.” His talons gripped her armor, keeping her upright as he pressed his comm. “Normandy, medical emergency. Have Chakwas standing by.”
Joker’s voice came through instantly. “On it, Garrus. ETA?”
“Ten minutes.” He didn’t even think about how natural it was to be giving orders now.
Shepard barely stirred as he maneuvered her into the Mako. He didn’t let go of her until he had to.
Chakwas did not appreciate him hovering. Garrus didn’t appreciate being asked to leave.
“I will stay out of your way,” he said flatly. “But I’m not leaving.”
Chakwas sighed, but there was something knowing in her expression. She didn’t press it.
He sat in the corner of the med bay, watching as Chakwas patched Shepard up, watching as her breathing steadied.
And then—the crew started coming to him.
It started small. One of the engineers asked if they were making any repairs before departing. Then a marine came with a field report. Then more. Even Pressly hesitated at the entrance of the med bay before deciding against whatever he was going to say. They were looking to him now.
He wasn’t Shepard. But Shepard wasn’t awake.
Garrus exhaled, dragging a hand down his face before pushing himself to his feet, gathering the stack of data pads the crew had left with him.
“Where are you going?” Chakwas asked, raising a brow.
“Mission briefing.”
Chakwas gave him a look. Something knowing. Something annoyingly close to pity. But she didn’t stop him.
The Normandy’s command staff was gathered, waiting. They were waiting for him. Well, they were waiting for Shepard, but she wasn’t here.
Garrus didn’t sit. He stood at the far end of the room. Where Shepard should be.
Ashley was the first to speak. “Are we going after Saren now?”
Garrus exhaled, forcing his focus back on the mission. “The Mu Relay could link to dozens of systems. Unless we know exactly where Saren’s going, we’d just be wasting our time.”
Ashley’s jaw tightened. “Who put you in charge? Did the commander resign when I wasn’t looking?”
Joker’s voice cut through the comms before Garrus could even answer. “Actually, Chief, Commander Shepard did. So he is in charge while she’s unconscious in the med bay.”
There was silence for a moment. Ashley’s expression tightened, but she backed down.
Liara nodded. “Garrus is right. We cannot rush off blind. We still need to learn more about Saren.”
Garrus let out a slow breath. “We’re all on the same team here, Williams. This is a tough mission. We’re all on edge. Everyone go get some rest. Crew… dismissed!”
One by one, they filed out.
Then, Joker’s voice came through the comms again. “Garrus, you want me to patch you through to the Council for a debrief?”
Garrus stared down at the floor, still thinking it should be Shepard standing here.
“No,” he said finally. “Just tell them Shepard was injured and is currently unavailable.”
“Copy that,” Joker said. “We still heading to Hades Gamma?”
Garrus nodded. “Yeah. Set a course.”
“Aye, aye, Commander,” Joker said—joking, but not joking.
Garrus chuckled but didn’t respond. He turned, heading back toward the med bay. Back to Jane.
She was still unconscious when he returned.
He settled back into the chair beside her bed, data pads in hand. He had work to do. But as he glanced at her again, something settled deep in his chest. Something solid.
She had nearly died today.
And that was something he was never going to let happen again.