Garrus
The mission was almost over.
Garrus could hear the salarians blowing the final AA tower over the comms as they entered the geothermal site. This was where they would wait for extraction—where they would set the bomb.
It was all going according to plan.
For once.
“All right! Nice work. That’s one less thing to worry about,” Joker’s voice crackled over the comms. “Commander, I’m bringing us in. I’ll get as close as I can.”
Garrus barely registered it. His focus was on Shepard.
She was scanning the space around them, stretching her neck absently as she kept watch. Always watching. Always looking for a threat—because she never believed it was over until it was over.
It wasn’t long before the Normandy touched down, deploying Ashley and a few officers to unload the bomb. Garrus kept close to Shepard, his rifle held easy but ready.
“Bomb is in position. We’re all set here.” Ashley radioed as she stepped towards Shepard.
“Commander, do you read me?” Kaidan’s voice. Urgent.
Shepard’s expression snapped to focus immediately. “The nuke is almost ready, Lieutenant. Get to the rendezvous point!” she ordered.
“Negative, Commander. The geth have us pinned down at the AA tower. We’ve taken heavy casualties. We’ll never make the rendezvous point in time.”
Shepard went completely still.
Garrus saw the way her mind already started moving, calculations running too fast for any of them to follow.
“Get them out of there, Joker. Now!”
“Negative. It’s too hot! You can’t risk it. We’ll hold them off as long as we—” Kaidan’s communication was cutoff suddenly.
Then Ashley spoke before she could. “It’s okay, Commander. I need a couple of minutes to finish arming the bomb. Go get them and meet me back here.”
Shepard turned to him, then to Wrex. “Up to the AA tower. Move.”
Garrus didn’t hesitate. They took off, moving fast.
But as they were about halfway there, a geth dropship came into view heading for the bomb site.
A pit formed in Garrus’ stomach.
“Chief. We just spotted a troop ship inbound to your location.” Kaidan’s voice came through, tight with tension.
Shepard’s eyes followed the geth ship to its destination. Garrus could see it clicking together in her mind. Everything falling apart all at once.
“It’s already here and it’s bleeding geth all over the bomb site.” Ashley’s voice remained steady, but Garrus could hear the edge creeping in.
Shepard grabbed the railing, looking down toward the site like it could give her a solution.
“Can you hold them off?” she demanded.
Ashley was quiet for just a second too long.
“There’s too many. I don’t think we can hold them.” She paused, then more determined continue, “I’m activating the nuke.”
Garrus felt everything inside him still.
“What the hell are you doing, Williams?”
“Making sure this bomb goes off. No matter what.” Ashley paused briefly. “It’s done, Commander. Go get the lieutenant and get the hell out of here.”
Shepard leaned forward against the railing again, gripping it tighter. Garrus could see it—her weight shifting, stepping back, leaning forward again.
And he knew. He knew exactly what she was doing because he had already figured it out, too. She was about to order one of them to die and he knew which one it would be.
“Belay that. We can handle ourselves.” Kaidan’s voice snapped through the comms. “Go back and get Williams.”
But Garrus already knew Shepard wouldn’t do that, because that would mean not just leaving Kaidan behind, but leaving Kirrahe’s remaining men. It would mean the entire distraction team would die with him.
Shepard closed her eyes for a fraction of a second. Then opened them looking back up.
“Alenko, radio Joker and tell him to meet us on the AA tower.”
A moment of silence.
Ashley knew what that meant. “Yes, Commander.” A pause. Then, quieter: “I…”
He didn’t finish.
Shepard swallowed hard, jaw tight. “Stay alive,” she started, her voice carefully measured, “I’ll be coming to get you too, Ash.”
Garrus knew it was a lie the second she said it.
So did Ashley.
“I think we both know that’s not going to happen, Commander.”
Garrus’ throat tightened.
Because Ashley wasn’t pleading, or begging her to change her mind. Garrus could hear the resignation in her voice.
Shepard squeezed her eyes shut, just for a second.
Garrus saw it happen.
She had tried to offer her hope. And Ashley had just…given her acceptance.
No anger. No pleading. Just a soldier accepting her fate.
Spirits guide her.
Shepard hesitated only briefly before turning and continuing down the path. Garrus followed, glancing back one last time.
Then he let it go.
Shepard
The battle outside raged on, the heavy scent of smoke and scorched metal clinging to the humid air. The heat from the gunfire was thick against her skin as she moved, each step driving them closer to the heart of the fight.
From her cover, she signaled to Garrus and Wrex to flank the remaining geth forces, giving them a chance to take pressure off Kirrahe’s team. But before she could reposition, the sharp, electric hum of thrusters cut through the din of battle.
She turned, just in time to see the hover-platform descending toward them. Not a geth dropship. Not reinforcements.
Saren.
A second later, the first biotic attack came, a pulse of raw force ripping through the air. She barely had time to dive behind cover before it hit. Stone and metal shattered behind her, and she rolled into position, coming up with her pistol drawn.
The turian Spectre stepped down from the platform with a deliberate slowness. His every movement exuded control, but there was no mistaking the tension in his stance—measured, calculating. And far too calm.
“This has been an impressive diversion, Shepard. My geth were utterly convinced the salarians were the real threat.” His voice was composed, almost conversational, but there was something beneath it—something that set her teeth on edge. “Of course, it was all for nothing. I can’t let you disrupt what I have accomplished here. You can’t possibly understand what’s really at stake.”
She squared her shoulders, keeping her pistol trained on him. “So help me understand.”
His mandibles flicked slightly, as if he found the idea amusing. “You’ve seen the vision from the beacons. You, of all people, should understand what the Reapers are capable of. They cannot be stopped.”
She let the words settle in the space between them. Fear. That was what she heard beneath the certainty. Not conviction. Not strength. Fear.
“The Protheans didn’t know they were coming,” she shot back. “We do.”
Saren tilted his head slightly. “But what if they had bowed before the invaders? Would the Protheans still exist? Is submission not preferable to extinction?”
Shepard’s jaw tightened. “Do you actually believe the Reapers will let you live?” she asked, voice sharp. “Have you even listened to Sovereign? Because nothing I’ve heard makes me think they plan on keeping us around.”
“If we work with the Reapers—if we make ourselves useful—think how many lives could be spared!” There was urgency in his voice now, something raw beneath the surface. He wasn’t just defending himself. He was trying to convince her.
And that was when she saw it—the hesitation, barely there, hidden beneath carefully placed logic.
Saren wanted to believe what he was saying. But he wasn’t sure.
That flicker of doubt sent a rush of anger through her. He was standing here, willing to sell out the entire galaxy, and he wasn’t even certain of his own argument.
“Once I understood this, I joined Sovereign,” Saren continued. “Though I was aware of the… dangers. I had hoped this facility could protect me.”
Shepard’s fingers curled tighter around her pistol. “You’re afraid.”
His mandibles flared slightly. “I am—”
“You’re afraid Sovereign is controlling you.”
Saren’s shoulders stiffened. It was subtle, barely a shift, but it was enough.
“I’ve studied the effects of indoctrination,” he said after a moment, his tone more measured. “The more control Sovereign exerts, the less capable the subject becomes. That is my saving grace.”
“Saving grace?” Shepard repeated. “You think you’re immune?”
“Sovereign needs me to find the Conduit,” he countered, as if saying it aloud would make it true. “My mind is still my own… for now. But the transformation from ally to servant can be subtle. I will not let it happen to me.”
Her blood ran cold at his choice of words. For now.
If he had to fight to keep his own thoughts, then he was already losing.
And he knew it.
“So you’re saying you killed Nihlus of your own volition?” Her voice was quieter now, but every syllable hit like steel. “Murdering him in cold blood was your choice?”
Something flickered in his eyes—just for a moment.
“I…” He hesitated. It was brief, but it was there.
Then, his expression hardened. “Nihlus would never have submitted. That wasn’t his way. He would have never understood.”
Because he would have fought.
She felt the anger rise in her chest like fire. Nihlus had died because he would have stood here, with her, against Saren.
“So he deserved to die for that?” Her voice was steady, sharp-edged. “He deserved to die because he would have made the same choice I’m making?”
Saren’s mandibles flicked downward. “Just like you, he would seek to undo my work. He would have doomed our entire civilization to complete annihilation.”
“And for that, he needed to die?”
“You must die.”
There it was. No more diplomacy. No more logic.
Just the raw truth of it.
Shepard exhaled slowly. Saren wasn’t indoctrinated—yet. But he had already given up.
“You don’t see it,” she said, shaking her head. “Sovereign’s already manipulating you. You just don’t realize it yet.”
“No,” Saren snapped, anger creeping into his voice. “Sovereign needs me. If I find the Conduit, I’ve been promised a reprieve from the inevitable. This is my only hope.”
She almost pitied him. Almost. “You still think you have control.”
“I do,” Saren insisted. “And my way is the only way any of us will survive!”
She took a slow breath. “We don’t have to submit to the Reapers, Saren. We can fight back. We can stop this.”
“I… no longer believe that, Shepard.” There was something almost apologetic in his tone. “Sovereign will succeed. It is inevitable. The only hope of survival is to join with them.”
Shepard squared her stance, tightening her grip on her weapon. “Then you’re already lost.”
Saren took a slow step backward, reaching for something behind him. “It’s unfortunate you won’t see reason, Shepard,” he said, his voice cool again, all traces of doubt buried beneath cold resolve. “You and I could have been great allies. But I will not let you risk everything I’ve worked for.”
The hover-platform’s thrusters kicked in, lifting him away just as a new wave of geth appeared.
And then the first biotic blast hit.
Shepard barely had time to move before the second wave of fire erupted. The fight had begun.
Garrus
The moment Saren’s hover-platform shot into the air, the battlefield exploded into chaos.
Garrus pivoted, tracking the Spectre’s movement, but before he could take a shot, the geth reinforcements swarmed in—a mix of destroyers, shock troopers, snipers, and those damnable rocket drones, closing in fast.
Shepard didn’t hesitate. She never did.
He watched as she dove into cover, already barking orders. “Garrus! Wrex! Focus fire on the snipers! Take out their support first!”
She knew exactly how to control the battlefield—force the enemy into a pattern, then break them.
But Saren wasn’t following the pattern.
The platform whirred above them, moving unpredictably as he rained biotic strikes down in rapid succession, each pulse of energy cracking the ground, scattering debris and sending shockwaves through their defenses.
Shepard was already moving, dodging, rolling out of the way. Fast. Precise. Fluid.
Every time Saren attacked, she wasn’t there. A step ahead. Always a step ahead.
But not forever.
The geth pressed their attack, herding them inward. She was running out of space to maneuver.
Garrus took position behind a set of shattered pillars, his rifle already lining up a shot. Wait for an opening.
He exhaled, pulled the trigger—but Saren twisted midair, his platform shifting at the last second. The sniper round grazed the edge of his armor, but it wasn’t enough.
The bastard smirked. Then he hurled a biotic pulse straight at Garrus.
He barely had time to brace. The impact hit like a kinetic barrier overloading—sudden, crushing, and sending static through every nerve. The world tilted, and the next thing he knew, his back slammed against a broken column, pain lancing through his side.
His vision blurred. A shrill ringing filled his ears.
Then Shepard’s voice, sharp and insistent, cut through the haze. “Garrus! Get up!”
He pushed himself up with a sharp intake of breath, shaking off the hit. No time to recover. No time for pain.
His eyes snapped to her. But she wasn’t looking at him anymore, she was focused entirely on Saren.
The platform descended, hovering low, Saren switching tactics—he wasn’t attacking anymore. He was closing in.
Garrus realized what was happening a second too late.
The geth had pushed them together, backing them into a tight space where Shepard’s mobility was cut down.
And Saren saw it.
His next attack came fast, a rapid biotic throw. Shepard twisted, tried to roll away, but there wasn’t enough room. The shockwave hit hard.
Garrus watched, helpless, as Shepard’s body lifted off the ground and slammed into the floor.
She hit hard.
A sharp, pained gasp left her lips before she could silence it.
Then she didn’t move.
Garrus’ heart slammed against his ribs. Shepard never stayed down. His feet moved before he could think, but Saren was already there.
The Spectre grabbed her by the throat, dragging her off the ground. Then he turned toward the ledge.
Spirits, no…
Garrus moved. No hesitation. No thought. Just movement, just action, just her.
His pistol was already in his hands. He fired.
The first couple of shots slammed into Saren’s shoulder, dropping his shields. As soon as they were down, he aimed for center mass. The impact forced Saren to stagger back, his grip loosening.
It was all Shepard needed.
She threw a punch, knocking him back just enough to break free. He let go, dropping her to the ground.
She landed hard, almost falling off the edge. But this time she moved. This time she forced herself up.
Saren snarled, bleeding, frustrated—but not beaten.
His hover-platform surged forward, forcing distance between them. He was retreating.
Bastard.
Garrus was already lining up another shot, as was Shepard, but she sighed, lowering her gun.
“Garrus—leave it. He’s running.”
It took everything in him not to pull the damn trigger anyway. He watched as Saren vanished into the smoke, his retreat barely visible through the heat shimmer of his thrusters.
The geth began to fall back. The fight was over. But he wasn’t looking at the battlefield anymore. He was looking at her.
Shepard was still kneeling, one hand braced against the ground, the other pressed against her ribs. Garrus felt something tighten in his chest. Too long. She was holding it too long.
“Jane.” His voice was lower than he intended, rough with what he wouldn’t—couldn’t—say.
She let out a breathy, slightly pained chuckle. “I’m all right.”
“Damn near gave me a heart attack.” His mandibles twitched. “Next time, try not getting thrown across the battlefield?”
She grinned, and despite everything, it settled something inside him. But his eyes flickered back to where she was gripping her ribs. The way her breath hitched. Just slightly.
She caught him looking. And then—just like that—her expression smoothed over. As if nothing was wrong. She pushed herself up, brushing the dust from her armor, deliberately casual.
“We need to move,” she muttered, already stepping away.
Most infuriating woman I’ve ever met.
Garrus exhaled, stepping back, jaw tight, following her even as the worry coiled deep in his chest.
She was hurt. She had to be. But there was no time, and she wasn’t going to admit it.
Over the comm, Joker’s voice crackled through the channel. “Commander, we are officially out of time. You need to get the hell out of there, now.”
“Copy that, Joker. We’re en route.” Shepard’s voice was sharp, steady—no trace of hesitation.
Garrus felt it anyway.
But she was right. They didn’t have time to dwell, not now. They had to get the hell out of here before the nuke went off.
Didn’t mean he wasn’t dragging her to the med bay the second they set foot on the Normandy. Either that or calling Chakwas to the comm room before Shepard could pull rank on him.
And he wasn’t above playing dirty to make it happen.
Shepard
As they boarded the Normandy, Shepard spotted Liara waiting in the cargo bay. Before anyone could say anything, Liara took off in a sprint, running past her and Garrus straight toward Kaidan. She threw her arms around him the moment she reached him.
Kaidan responded immediately, his arms wrapping around her waist, holding her tight.
Liara pulled back just enough to slam her hands against his chest. “By the Goddess, what were you thinking? Offering to stay behind like that without—” Her words faltered as Kaidan caught her wrists, holding her hands against him. “Don’t do that to me again.”
Kaidan rested his forehead against hers, whispering something too quiet for anyone else to hear.
Garrus turned to look at Shepard, a soft smile playing on his features. “I guess he stopped pining…”
Shepard smiled faintly.
This didn’t take away the pain of the choice she’d made. But it eased it, just a little.
Joker’s voice crackled over the comms. “Commander, is everyone on board? We need to get out of here.”
“Yes, get us out of here, Joker,” she responded, already heading for the elevator. Garrus followed close behind.
They reached the cockpit just as the Normandy was clearing the atmosphere.
“All right, everybody hang on!” Joker shouted as he maneuvered the Normandy up and away from Virmire. Shepard barely heard him, her grip tightening on the back of a seat as she braced herself.
They barely cleared the atmosphere when the blast hit.
A mushroom cloud bloomed in the distance, fire and destruction swallowing everything that had been left behind.
Ashley.
Shepard stared, her jaw locked, her expression unreadable even to herself.
She had told her she would come back. And she’d meant it. She had wanted to believe it.
But in the end, it hadn’t mattered.
Saren had stolen those minutes from her. Stolen any chance she had of making that impossible promise real.
I think we both know that’s not going to happen, Commander.
Ashley had known.
She hadn’t pleaded. She hadn’t argued. She hadn’t even hesitated. And that? That was worse somehow.
She had known that the burden of command meant making choices like this. It meant making the call and living with it.
But she didn’t have to like it.
“That was a close one, Commander,” Joker said, his voice calm, matter-of-fact. There was no blame in it, no reprimand.
Kaidan stood nearby, leaning against the window, watching the planet getting smaller behind them. Or maybe not watching at all.
Shepard exhaled slowly as she turned to leave. Her eyes met Garrus’ just for a second.
His concern was plain as day, but she wasn’t ready to deal with that.
Not yet.
“Debrief in fifteen,” was all she managed before she strode out, heading for the cargo bay.
Garrus didn’t follow. Did he understand the choices she had made? Did he agree with them? She didn’t know. And she couldn’t ask. Not yet.
She pulled off her armor mechanically, changing into her fatigues. The motions were familiar, automatic.
Then, suddenly, the thought hit her.
Nihlus.
She hadn’t even considered how that conversation must have sounded to Garrus. She had pressed Saren about Nihlus. Demanded to know why he had killed him.
She had been angry, yes. Furious, even.
But it wasn’t about them. It wasn’t about what they had been, or what they could have been. It was about the senselessness of it all.
But does he know that?
Did he understand that she didn’t miss Nihlus in that way? That she had never felt for Nihlus what she felt for him? Was that why he didn’t follow her?
She wasn’t sure.
And suddenly, she realized she needed to find him.
Not because she thought he needed to talk.
But because she did.
Shepard
“I can’t believe Ash didn’t make it. How could we just leave her down there?” Kaidan said, his voice strained.
There it was, the first hint of blame. Except, it wasn’t directed at her. Not entirely.
“Williams knew the risks going in. She gave her life to save the rest of us.” Shepard responded.
Kaidan shook his head, “But why me? Why not her?”
“Kaidan—” Liara began to chastise but Shepard put her hand up, asking her to let her handle it.
She could see Liara was barely holding it together. And she knew that kind of fear all too well. She had felt it just last week when she had lost contact with Garrus for those few hours during the pirate raid on that colony.
“It wasn’t your call, Alenko. It was mine.” She responded calmly. “I chose to save you and all that remained of the salarian STG team with you.”
“But if I’d done my job, you wouldn’t have had to make that call,” Kaidan pressed.
“It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t my fault. The only one to blame here is Saren.” She responded calmly.
“I…uh…Yes, ma’am.”
Kaidan’s gaze turned downward. Shepard knew he wasn’t done beating himself up. Not by a longshot. But it was a start. And yet again, here was someone else who didn’t blame her. Everyone else was so ready to accept everything on her behalf. This didn’t feel normal. She had made the call. Why didn’t anyone blame her?
“Commander,” Liara interjected hesitantly, slightly more composed now, “Forgive me for interrupting, but I think the beacon you found on Virmire was similar to the one on Eden Prime. It may have filled in the missing pieces of your vision.”
Shepard sighed, she knew this had been coming, but in the aftermath of everything she had almost forgotten about the beacon. “You want to join our minds again, don’t you? Ok, go ahead.”
She got up from her seat, stepping forward to meet Liara, mentally preparing herself for what was coming.
Every time Liara did that, she felt disoriented for a moment. It was odd for memories, thoughts to be forced to the forefront on your behalf. It always left her a little bit dizzy, though not as exhausted as the process seemed to leave Liara.
“I never imagined the images would be so… vivid. I need a moment to collect myself.” Liara said taking a step back.
“Did the message make any more sense to you this time?”
“It’s a distress call. A warning against the Reapers sent out across the Prothean empire. But the warning came too late.” Liara was figuring it out as she was speaking.
“There were other images, locations. Places I recognize from my research…” Liara trailed off trying to recall what she saw. “Ilos! The conduit is on Ilos! That’s why Saren needed the Mu relay. It’s the only way to get there.”
Then, as she always did when she pushed herself too far, Liara stumbled. Shepard caught her, but in an instant, Kaidan was at Liara’s side to steady her.
Shepard looked around the room, “Then that’s where we need to go. We need to get to Ilos.”
“Forget it. The Mu Relay’s inside the Terminus Systems. Alliance ships aren’t welcome there.” Tali jumped in.
“Neither are Spectres.” Garrus added.
“We already knew where the Mu Relay was, it hasn’t moved since we were on Noveria. Now we simply know the destination as well.” Shepard was now frustrated. They were saying this like the circumstances had changed. If the location of the Mu Relay was a problem, they had known that for a while now. Why did knowing the destination matter?
“I’m open to suggestions that aren’t just letting the Reapers come destroy us all.” She added, though realizing her tone was probably more annoyed than she intended.
“Saren will have his entire fleet orbiting Ilos. You will never make it down to the surface without reinforcements. You must alert the Council. We will need a fleet to—” Liara stumbled again, clearly needing to go lay down.
Shepard bit back her frustration for now. She wasn’t going to have this argument. She wasn’t hearing any valid suggestions.
“We’re done here. Dismissed.” She said as she turned back towards the console.
“Commander, there’s a comm buoy nearby. I can link us in if you want to report back to the Citadel Council. You know, to warn them about Sovereign.” Joker’s voice came in over the comms.
She sighed, she already knew how this would go but she needed to do it anyway. “Patch them through, Joker.”
“Commander Shepard. I’m pleased to see your mission on Virmire was a success.” Tevos seeming genuinely pleased with her, which was nothing if not surprising.
“Saren is formidable enough without an army of krogan serving under him.” Sparatus added, also apparently happy with one of her decisions for once.
“The krogan would have served Sovereign. A Reaper.” Shepard responded, but regretting her words the moment they left her mouth.
Valern nodded, “Yes, we saw mention of this on your report. Sovereign. A sentient machine. A true artificial intelligence. This news is quite alarming… if it turns out to be accurate.”
“Sovereign’s a Reaper. Saren admitted it.” Shepard replied, wincing.
Why am I doing this to myself?
And there was Sparatus, once again mandibles flaring. His approval of her had lasted less than thirty seconds, “He’s playing you, Shepard! Saren still has contacts on the Citadel. He probably saw your earlier reports. The ones talking about your vision. And the Reapers.”
“It’s highly possible Saren is using false information to throw you off balance. Our own intelligence has never turned up any corroborating information.” Valern interjected.
Shepard rubbed her temples for a moment before responding, “Sooner or later you’re going to have to take something I say on faith, Councilor.”
“Try to see this from our perspective, Commander.” Tevos began, as always the most diplomatic voice in the room, “Saren is a threat we can recognize. However, as far as we know, the Reapers only exist in your visions.”
“Our decisions affect trillions of lives. We cannot act on the accusations of a single person. Even a Spectre. Not without solid evidence.” Valern continued.
Tevos nodded towards Valern, but then turned back towards her .”The Council cannot take any official action here. That is why we created the Spectres. You have the authority to act as you see fit.”
“If you truly believe Sovereign is the real threat, you must take whatever steps are necessary to stop it. And Saren.” Valern added.
“Good luck, Commander. From all of us.” Tevos said before ending the transmission.
She almost always said that. Shepard was pretty sure it wasn’t from all of them.
She stood there for a few moments. Unsure of where to go. If she were honest right now she couldn’t deal with much more dissent, questioning, doubting. She needed quiet.
As she turned to leave, her ribs protested.
Right. Just one more thing.
Garrus
Garrus watched as Shepard stepped off the elevator and walked straight past the mess hall, past med bay without a second glance. Just headed straight for her quarters.
Straight past him without a second glance. She didn’t stop to talk to anyone. Not Joker. Not Kaidan. Not him.
Garrus’ mandibles twitched, unease settling low in his chest. She’d barely even looked at him since they left Virmire. He’d caught her eyes once, in the comm room before he left, and he’d seen it—the weight of everything pressing down on her, the exhaustion pulling at her shoulders, but something else had been there too. Something she wasn’t saying.
And now she was shutting them all out.
He sighed, pushing off the table where he’d been leaning. She didn’t get to do this. Not this time.
His legs carried him before he even fully made the decision. He walked towards her quarters, jaw set, his gut telling him he wasn’t going to like what he found when he got there.
When the doors slid open, he barely hesitated before stepping in.
The first thing he saw was Shepard at the small bar, pouring herself a drink. The second thing he saw was the way her hands were shaking. It was subtle. Almost imperceptible. But it was there.
She lifted the glass and downed the whiskey in one go, barely reacting to the burn. Garrus leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms, trying for something light.
Ease into it.
“So, the Council about as helpful as always?”
Shepard turned, and the look she gave him burned.
Not in the way he liked.
Garrus’ mandibles twitched as he exhaled sharply. Alright then.
“Let me guess,” he continued, “they don’t believe in the Reapers, they think Saren’s just running his own little let’s destroy the galaxy campaign for fun? Better yet, they think you’re imagining it all?” He scoffed. “Yeah, that tracks.”
She still wasn’t saying anything. Just watching him.
His eyes flicked to the bottle in her hand. “You gonna pour me one, or are you drinking alone tonight?”
That was what broke her silence. “I don’t know, Garrus.” Her voice was sharp. “Am I?”
His brow plates pulled together slightly. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“You tell me,” she said, slamming the bottle down on the table.
His gut twisted. “Jane—”
“You fought me on the Mu Relay. You.” A slow breath, shaking her head. “Ashley just died for this, and you—what? You think I should just not go?”
His jaw tightened. “That’s not—”
“Because that’s what it felt like, Garrus. Just another person telling me I can’t do what needs to be done. Like I don’t already know how dangerous this is. Like I don’t know what we’re up against. Like I don’t know exactly how many more people I’m going to lose before this is over.”
She was angry. Hurt.
And damn it, so was he.
“You think I don’t know that?” His voice sharpened, matching hers. “You think I don’t know what this mission is going to cost? What it’s already cost you?”
Her jaw clenched, but she didn’t speak.
“You scare the hell out of me, Jane.” He took a step closer, his voice lower now, more controlled. “Watching you throw yourself into the fire over and over again, knowing I can’t always pull you back? That terrifies me.”
She let out a bitter laugh. “You think I want this?”
“No. But you’re still gonna do it.” He exhaled. “And I’ll still be right beside you.”
She blinked. Her lips parted slightly, like she wanted to say something, but then she just shook her head.
Garrus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look, I get why you’re angry. But that’s not what this is really about, is it?”
Her posture stiffened. He saw the flicker of something in her eyes.
He tilted his head slightly. “This is about him.”
That made her snap back to attention. “What?”
“Nihlus.” His voice was steady, but the doubt had already sunk in. “Back on Virmire—the way you asked Saren about him. And I get it. But…” His jaw clenched, like he didn’t want to say the next words. “So what is this, Jane? Am I just your way to forget?”
Shepard inhaled sharply. “Garrus—”
“Because if you still—”
She moved before he could finish, closing the space between them in two steps.
Then she kissed him.
No hesitation. No warning. She kissed him like she needed him to understand.
Garrus barely had time to react before his body caught up to his mind. He kissed her back, his hands finding her waist, pulling her closer.
She was not gentle about it. And he needed that.
When she pulled back, she was breathing hard, her forehead against his.
“You listen to me, Garrus Vakarian,” she murmured, her voice rough, raw. “Nihlus was a friend. A fling. The person that thought I should be a Spectre. But you—” She swallowed, shaking her head slightly. “You are so much more than that. You are not a replacement. You are not a second choice. You are everything to me. And I don’t want you to ever question that again.”
His throat was dry. He didn’t know what to say to that. So he just kissed her again.
And she let him.
Then, just as he pulled her closer, she flinched. He froze. His mind caught up a second later.
Shit. Her ribs.
Shepard groaned, one hand pressing against her side.
Garrus swore under his breath. “Damn it, Jane.”
“I’m fine.”
“The hell you are.”
Before she could protest, he scooped her up, ignoring her immediate squawk of indignation.
“Garrus! Put me down, damn it!”
“Not a chance.” He was already heading for the door. “You flinched. Which means you’re hurt. Which means you’re going to see Chakwas.”
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
As they stepped out into the mess hall, all eyes turned to look at them. Some looks mildly alarmed others thoroughly amused.
She scowled. He grinned.
“Garrus! At least let me walk there,” she huffed, looking around at everyone in the mess hall clearly trying to ignore the public spectacle of it all.
“Yeah, see, I would, but I know you. The second I let you go, you’re gonna turn around and head straight for the bridge.”
That earned a laugh from Joker, “I take it the Commander is injured again?” he chimed in.
She muttered something under her breath.
He chuckled.
She was still pissed. Still grieving. But at least now—she wasn’t alone in it.
Garrus
It had been a few days since they left Virmire. Shepard had recovered from her injuries, mostly.
Garrus had Shepard backed into a corner—well, almost. She was good at slipping through defenses at the last second, twisting just enough to stay out of reach. But he wasn’t giving her the chance this time.
“You sure you’re feeling up for this, Commander?” he teased, stepping forward deliberately, cutting off her angles.
Shepard smirked, eyes gleaming in the dim light of the cargo bay. “Why? You worried I might knock you on your ass again?”
Garrus let out a low chuckle, shifting his weight. “Let’s just say I’d rather not have Chakwas give me another ‘what the hell were you thinking’ speech.”
She lunged. He countered. Fast. Precise. A sharp clash of movement that sent both of them twisting, momentum shifting like a current neither was quite willing to break.
He didn’t realize how close they had gotten until he caught the faint hitch in her breath.
Her hands were on his shoulders. His grip was firm around her wrist.
A fraction of a second, an almost-moment.
Then his omni-tool beeped.
The shift was instant. The tension cut clean away as Shepard exhaled sharply, rolling her eyes. “You have got to be kidding me.”
Garrus let out a groan. “Spirits, what now?”
Shepard took a step back, shaking her head with a smirk. “You could ignore it.”
Garrus looked down, and for a moment, he froze. “It’s… my father.”
Shepard blinked at him, tilting her head slightly. But she didn’t say anything as he pulled up the message, exhaling as his father’s voice filtered through.
“Garrus.” Castis’ tone was flat, heavy with disapproval. “I figured it was time we talked.”
Garrus straightened slightly, bracing himself. “I’m guessing this isn’t a how’s-the-weather kind of call.”
Shepard crossed her arms, watching.
“No.” Castis’ voice was clipped. “You really did it. Left C-Sec to chase after a human Spectre.”
“Technically, she had me reassigned under her command. You know, the proper way, paperwork and everything. Even had Pallin approve the transfer.”
“Don’t get smart with me, Garrus.”
From the corner of his eye, he saw Shepard quirk an eyebrow, amused despite herself.
“I warned you that Spectres are trouble,” Castis continued, mandibles flaring. “But I didn’t expect this.”
Garrus sighed, already knowing where this was going. “Expect what? Being reassigned?”
“You know what I’m referring to. I’ve been getting reports.”
Garrus’ brow plates pulled together slightly. “Reports?”
Shepard leaned in slightly at that, her expression shifting.
“Not only are you running around with a human Spectre,” Castis continued, voice sharp, deliberate. “But you’re involved with her.”
Garrus hesitated. Shit.
Garrus’ mandibles twitched, a strange tightness settling in his chest. “Dad… you’re listening to rumors now?”
The words were barely out before he felt it—Shepard’s flinch. Small. A barely-there shift of weight, the slightest change in her breathing. His first instinct had been to deflect, to keep his father out of it.
But it hit him like a gunshot.
Damn it.
Why was he even trying to deny it? He saw the flicker of doubt cross her face before she tried to hide it, saw the way she pulled back just slightly—not physically, but emotionally. Like she was bracing for him to choose his father over her.
No.
Castis, oblivious, pressed forward. “Not rumors. I spoke to Seris.”
And there it is.
Garrus’ shoulders tensed. He hadn’t thought about Seris in weeks, but now one of her last messages flashed in his mind. “Please. I saw how you looked at her. The entire club did.”
Shepard was still watching him. Silent.
Garrus exhaled, running a hand over his fringe. “Well, if it makes you feel better, I believe you’ve met her father. He remembers you anyway.”
“What? Are you telling me her father is C-Sec?”
Garrus chuckled. “Blackwatch operative. Selvek Itanus.”
Shepard blinked.
Castis’ mandibles flared instantly. “That reckless operative who made my life a nightmare on several occasions?”
Garrus smirked just slightly. “That’s the one. Though he would argue you were the one making his life difficult.”
Shepard huffed a quiet laugh, but there was tension beneath it now.
Castis exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Spirits, Garrus.”
Then his voice hardened. “You are ruining your future over a Spectre? A human? Daughter of an even more reckless operative.”
A silence stretched between them. And then, Garrus straightened, his voice quiet but unwavering.
“No.” He took a breath, and before he could think, before he could stop it, the words came. “I’m choosing my own future.”
Shepard inhaled sharply.
Castis’ mandibles clicked together sharply. “You think you know what you’re doing.”
“I do.”
There was a deep, heavy pause. Then Castis sighed, his voice dropping lower. “I don’t have time for this. But don’t expect me to clean up after your mistakes this time.”
The line went dead and silence lingered in the air.
Garrus exhaled, rolling his shoulders like he was shaking off a weight.
Shepard hadn’t moved.
“Garrus…” Her voice was quieter now, careful.
He shook his head. “It’s fine.”
She didn’t believe him. She took a step closer. “You don’t have to—”
“I know.”
She sighed, her eyes betraying a hint of frustration. “Garrus, I don’t want to be the reason you and your father—”
“You’re not.” He interrupted.
He could see the guilt, see her taking on another burden that wasn’t hers to bear.
Garrus studied her carefully, mandibles twitching slightly. “Jane.”
She arched an eyebrow.
He took a step closer, tilting his head. “This has long been about a lot more than us.”
Shepard’s smirk faltered. “Doesn’t mean I should make it worse.”
He closed the space between them, slow and steady, hands settling lightly on her waist as his forehead brushed against hers.
She inhaled sharply, but didn’t pull away.
“You are not a mistake,” he murmured, voice low, certain. “And I am not a second choice.”
She closed her eyes for half a second, then she kissed him.
This time, he deepened it. Slow, steady, thorough.
She melted into it, fingers curling at the base of his cowl, pulling him closer.
His hands slid lower, firmer, fingers teasing along the seams of her waistband before he paused, pulling back just slightly.
She was breathing hard.
He smirked. “You gonna let me convince you, or do I need to keep talking?”
She let out a breathless laugh, shaking her head. “You know we’re still in the cargo bay?”
His mandibles twitched. “I don’t care.”
“And that the whole STG team is just right over there?”
Garrus glanced back, smirking “I. Dont. Care.”
He leaned in to kiss her again but then the familiar chime of the comms interrupted this time.
“Message coming in, Commander. It’s Admiral Hackett.” Joker’s voice crackled over the comms.
Shepard groaned.
Every. Single. Time.
Garrus’ mandibles flared as he exhaled sharply. “Spirits. Of course it is.”