Garrus
Garrus had decided to finally tackle figuring out how to improve the guns on the Mako. After Feros, they needed some repairs anyway, and Shepard had been complaining about how easily they overheated.
Tali was already underneath the vehicle, her legs sticking out as she muttered something in Khelish about “human engineering shortcuts.” Every so often, her hand would emerge, gesturing vaguely for a tool, and Garrus would pass her whatever she needed without her having to ask.
Shepard was sitting cross-legged on top of the Mako, idly toying with a wrench as she monitored some of the displays. She wasn’t much of a mechanic, and she’d admitted that outright, but Garrus had noticed something over the past few weeks: Shepard listened. She didn’t just nod along or let the words wash over her—she was paying attention. She asked the right questions, tracked the modifications he and Tali made, and even started anticipating what tools they needed before they asked.
She wasn’t a tech specialist, but that wasn’t because she couldn’t be. It was just because she hadn’t needed to be. But it was obvious she understood more than she admitted. She had no problem keeping up with the conversation between him and Tali.
But if there was one thing he’d learned about her, it was that if something was important—if it meant keeping her people alive—she’d damn well figure it out.
“This should help with the heat absorption,” Garrus said, holding up a component before fitting it into place. “The problem isn’t just the cooling, it’s the way the discharge rate fluctuates under rapid fire. You need more consistent heat dispersion—”
“Which is what I’m working on down here,” Tali’s muffled voice called out from beneath the Mako. “The cooling system is Alliance standard, which means it’s not designed for sustained fire, just for burst damage. If we reroute the—”
The familiar crackle of the comms interrupted her.
“Commander, urgent transmission from Admiral Hackett.” Joker’s voice called out.
Shepard’s gaze flicked to Garrus, eyebrows raised. Urgent she mouthed, before setting down the wrench and swinging her legs off the side of the Mako, almost as if she was about to jump off.
“Patch it through, Joker.”
A second later, Hackett’s voice filled the bay. “Shepard, this is Admiral Hackett from Alliance Command. We’ve got a situation here, and you’re the only one who can handle it.”
Shepard sat up straighter, clearly confused. “What do you need, Admiral?”
Garrus noticed Tali had also gone still underneath the Mako, listening.
“There’s an Alliance training ground where we test weapons and technology in live-fire simulations,” Hackett began, his tone brisk and efficient. “One of the VIs we use to simulate enemy tactics in the drills is no longer responding to our override commands. It’s gone rogue.”
Rogue VI?
Tali slid out from under the Mako fast enough that Garrus had to step aside. Her head tilted as she focused on the comm.
Garrus saw the shift in Shepard almost immediately. Her eyes started darting back and forth—not in panic, but in calculation. Puzzle pieces, he realized. She was assembling puzzle pieces before she even knew what picture they were forming.
She cleared her throat. “Are you telling me this computer is thinking on its own?”
There was a pointed edge in her tone—probably unintentional—but Hackett picked up on it anyway.
“We’re not stupid, Shepard. This is a virtual intelligence, not a true AI.”
Tali sat up, leaning against the console now, arms folded across her chest. Garrus caught the slight tilt of her head—skepticism.
Shepard’s expression flattened slightly, and she rolled her shoulders, the way she did when she was biting back an argument.
Hackett kept going, apparently deciding to clarify. “It’s not self-aware, and it can’t access any external systems. We didn’t do anything illegal here.”
“I understand, Admiral,” Shepard said smoothly.
But Garrus could already see the doubt in her eyes. And from the way Tali shifted her weight, she wasn’t buying it either.
“Virtual intelligence support is critical to our military success,” Hackett continued. “VIs process thousands of status reports and react in nanoseconds. No human can do that.”
Garrus’ mandibles twitched. Why is he explaining this?
“We need you to fight your way through the training ground to the VI core and manually disable it,” Hackett finished.
Shepard exhaled through her nose, expression still unreadable. “Can’t you disable it remotely?”
The moment she asked, she, Garrus, and Tali exchanged looks. Of course they couldn’t. If they could, they wouldn’t be calling her.
“Our failsafes aren’t responding,” Hackett admitted. “The VI operates on a closed network. It can’t affect any external systems, but we don’t have any direct access to its processes.”
“So it’s an isolated system failure,” Tali said quietly, more to herself than anyone else. “Probably hardware.”
Garrus nodded slightly in agreement. Which meant this was likely just an issue of a stuck process or a hardware failure.
“We could bomb it from orbit,” Hackett added, “but the damage to the facility would be catastrophic. We’d prefer to have someone shut down the core. Someone like you.”
What is it about you that makes people assume we enjoy being in harm’s way? Tali had said that on Feros. Garrus was starting to think she had a point.
Shepard didn’t flinch.
“I know Spectres answer to the Council,” Hackett continued, “but you’re still human. You’re still part of the Alliance military, and right now we need you.”
Garrus’ mandibles flared slightly. There it is.
No matter where Shepard went, no matter who she worked for, someone was always reminding her of what she was. The Council never let her forget she was human. The Alliance never let her forget she was a Spectre. They all used it when it suited them.
And as he looked at Shepard now, he saw the flicker of recognition in her eyes.
“You’re referring to Luna Base, Admiral,” she said, her voice controlled.
“I am,” Hackett confirmed. “The VI controls all of the facility’s weapons, drones, and automated defenses. You’re the only one who can pull this off, Shepard. Good luck.”
The transmission cut out, leaving the cargo bay silent.
Shepard leaned back against the Mako, arms folded over her chest.
Tali broke the silence first. “A VI doesn’t just ‘go rogue.’ That’s not how they work.”
“Exactly what I was thinking,” Shepard said quietly.
Garrus watched her, knowing that look—something wasn’t sitting right with her.
“What is it, Jane?”
She was silent for a moment before exhaling sharply. “Did he seem a bit defensive to you?”
“Very,” Tali agreed immediately. “He spent half that conversation justifying why they have VIs in the first place.”
Garrus chuckled, trying to ease the tension. “You’re both getting ahead of yourselves. It’s probably nothing more than a stuck process. The VI probably got stuck in one of its combat modes.”
Shepard exchanged a glance with Tali before turning back to him. She shook her head. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
But he wasn’t convinced she believed that. And from the way Tali was looking at her omni-tool, already pulling up technical specs, neither was she.
Shepard turned her gaze to the ceiling, her voice quieter but firm. “Joker, set a course for Luna Base.”
“Aye, aye, Commander.”
Garrus
The first thing they were met with on Luna Base was turret fire.
“Garrus, keep us moving. I’ll take them out.” Shepard was already shifting, bracing herself behind the Mako’s turret.
“You got it, Shepard.” He smirked, gripping the controls and keeping them steady.
The turrets fired in slow, methodical bursts. Predictable. Garrus easily maneuvered the Mako between shots, giving Shepard clean windows to pick them off one by one.
“That’s certainly easier than a thresher maw,” Shepard quipped.
Garrus chuckled. “What, you don’t miss getting tossed twenty feet in the air?”
“Not even a little.”
Once the last turret exploded in a burst of sparks, he guided the Mako toward the first bunker. Everything about this place was off. Too quiet. Too still. Like a graveyard that didn’t know it was dead yet.
Inside, they moved quickly. A few drones, nothing serious. The real trouble started when Shepard destroyed the first of the VI clusters.
The ventilation system roared to life. A second later, toxic gas began filling the bunker.
Shepard coughed, covering her mouth. “We better get through this quickly.”
“That’s not a malfunction,” Tali said sharply, her voice tight over the comms. “The VI just triggered environmental controls.”
Garrus swore under his breath. “This place does seem very intent on killing us.”
Shepard didn’t respond, but he caught the tightness in her jaw as they pressed forward.
In the next bunker, things got worse. As soon as Shepard destroyed the first cluster, kinetic barriers snapped into place—blocking the exits.
Garrus felt his mandibles twitch as he aimed down his rifle. “Is it just me, or does this VI have an awfully strong will to live?”
“It’s adapting,” Tali’s voice came through, edged with alarm. “Those barriers weren’t part of the base defense protocols. It reprogrammed them.”
Shepard gave him a look that set something cold in his stomach. She wasn’t surprised.
“This isn’t just a malfunction,” she said quietly.
“No,” Tali agreed, her voice hushed with unease. “It’s learning. VIs aren’t supposed to do that.”
By the time they reached the last bunker, there was no more doubt in his mind. Beyond the final doors, the VI had done more than just set up a few drones. It had built a kill box. Rocket drones hovered behind high cover, positioned with surgical precision. The second the squad moved in, their weapons locked on.
“Keelah,” Tali breathed. “This positioning… it’s not following training algorithms. It’s creating new strategies.”
Garrus felt his stomach drop. Is it…thinking?
“Take cover, shoot fast, and don’t miss. This isn’t going to be good,” Shepard said, pressing against the wall.
Garrus grinned despite himself, trying to shake off the unease. “Don’t worry, Shepard. I won’t let them get to you.”
She huffed softly, shaking her head—but he could see the amusement flicker across her face. Even here, even now, she never lost that edge of humor.
But then she stepped out and fired the first shot. And the VI fought back.
Garrus caught movement from the next room. A cluster of fresh drones powered up the second Shepard targeted the core.
It’s protecting itself.
The thought struck like a gunshot in his mind. The VI was fighting as if it knew this was the end. That wasn’t programming. That was instinct.
The moment Shepard destroyed the last cluster node, the room screamed.
A burst of deafening white noise erupted over comms. Garrus’ visor flickered. A string of binary code ran across his HUD.
Repeating again and again and again…
“Wait—” Tali’s voice cut through sharp and urgent. “Shepard, the VI just transmitted something on all frequencies. I’m recording it—”
“I’m getting it too,” Garrus confirmed, watching the stream of data scroll past.
And then everything went silent.
Garrus exhaled, gun still raised. His stomach felt tight. That didn’t feel like a system shutdown. That felt like a death.
“Did you both get the full transmission?” Shepard’s voice was quiet, controlled.
“The sequences?” His mandibles flexed, unease crawling up his spine. “Yeah. I got them, Jane.”
Garrus turned to face Shepard. Her eyes were distant, calculating. She had expected this.
“Shepard…” Tali hesitated. “That wasn’t just a VI, was it?”
Shepard’s expression didn’t change. She just nodded slowly, like she’d already known.
Garrus felt something ugly curl in his chest. “Are your people experimenting with AI?”
She looked at him. And in that moment? He knew. She wasn’t surprised. She wasn’t even angry. She was tired.
“Not to my knowledge.” Her voice was quiet, almost distant. There was something else in it too. Something he couldn’t name.
He just knew he didn’t like it.
She exhaled sharply, then straightened. The moment was over. Just like that, she was Commander Shepard again. “I’ll report what we have back to Admiral Hackett.”
“Shepard—” Tali started, but Shepard was already moving toward the exit.
Garrus and Tali exchanged a look. Neither of them said what they were both thinking.
Because for the first time since meeting her, Garrus wasn’t sure he wanted the answer.
Garrus
Garrus hadn’t even finished running his post-mission checks when Shepard found him.
She walked into the cargo bay, leaning against the bulkhead, but he could tell something was off. She looked fine—no worse for wear after the mission. But her eyes were sharp, calculating, thinking. Which meant she was about to ask for something.
“Hey,” she greeted.
“Jane,” he acknowledged, closing out his current readout.
“Do you still have that recording from Luna Base?”
Garrus blinked. That hadn’t been what he was expecting. “I do,” he said slowly, tilting his head. “You want a copy?”
She nodded.
That was weird.
Garrus leaned against the console, crossing his arms. “You mind telling me why? It was just a string of binary. Didn’t seem like much.”
She looked at him, silent. He saw her jaw tighten slightly before she exhaled, running a hand through her hair. “I’m just curious about something,” she said.
That didn’t answer anything, and that bothered him. Something in the back of his mind itched—he still didn’t like how that mission had ended. The white noise. The way it felt like something had died. He could see that something about this mission was sticking with her. He’d seen it from the moment she spoke to Hackett.
Garrus pulled up the file, still watching her. “You want both the audio and the text?”
“Yeah.”
He sent them over to her omni-tool and waited as she pulled it up. She was silent. That was never good.
He frowned. “Jane, are you secretly a hacker or a tech specialist and just never told me?”
That got him something. She huffed a laugh, shaking her head. “Yeah, Garrus. I was actually born on Omega, raised by a rogue AI, and I’ve secretly been playing you all along.”
“See, now I have to wonder if you’re lying.”
That got him a smirk, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
He let the silence settle again, just enough for her to decide if she wanted to tell him the real answer.
And finally—
“I think we just killed an emerging intelligence.”
The weight of her words settled heavy in Garrus’ chest. He straightened, his gut twisting. “Jane…”
She didn’t respond right away. She was staring at her omni-tool, her fingers hovering over the interface like she was hesitating.
“Jane,” he said, more carefully this time. “What are yo—”
“Did you read the message?” she asked abruptly.
He blinked. “What?”
“The binary. Did you actually read it?”
Garrus exhaled, his mandibles flaring slightly. “I glanced over it, yeah, but it just looked like a bunch of random sequences. I didn’t—”
She closed her eyes, taking a long, slow breath. When she opened them again, they were glassy. Garrus felt something cold settle in his chest. She looked like she was going to say something, but she didn’t—or maybe couldn’t.
Instead, she lifted her omni-tool and motioned for him to come closer.
He stepped forward without hesitation.
And then he saw the word on her display: HELP.
Garrus stared. A slow, gnawing realization sank into his bones, as heavy as the silence between them. They weren’t guessing anymore. This wasn’t some rogue process stuck in a combat loop. This wasn’t just a VI. It had asked for help, and they had killed it.
Garrus swallowed hard. His stomach turned. Not because AI had ever been something he’d thought about much—hell, it was illegal in Council space. But this was different. Because Shepard was standing in front of him, staring at that one word like it had just carved itself into her soul.
She flexed her fingers, then clenched them into a fist.
“What I don’t get,” she continued, her voice breaking slightly, “is why me?”
That made him pause. “What do you mean?”
She looked at him now, and he could see the way her mind was piecing something together. “That mission wasn’t hard, Garrus. Any N7 operative could’ve handled it.”
Garrus opened his mouth, then stopped. She was right. That mission had been too easy. The turrets had fired slowly—Shepard had taken them out like it was basic training. Hell, even dodging them in the Mako had been simple. The bunkers had barely been defended. A squad of recruits could have handled that op.
But Hackett had called her. He’d told her: You’re the only one who can pull this off.
Garrus had accepted that at the time. It was Shepard. It was always Shepard. But now, thinking about it? That had been a lie.
She crossed her arms, brow furrowed. “So why send me? A Spectre?”
Garrus felt his mandibles twitch. Shit.
“Jane…” he started, voice measured. “You think Hackett knew?”
“I don’t know.” She sighed, rubbing at her temple. “But I don’t like it. Did they need someone under Council authority to validate it was a VI? Or just to validate that it was destroyed?”
His gut twisted again. And it wasn’t just what they did—it was what the Alliance had done. What Hackett had done. Garrus hated that he had no answers. Because damn it, she was going to carry this. He could see it in her eyes.
And if she was going to carry it, then so was he.
He exhaled through his nose, then reached out—slow, deliberate. His hand settled on her shoulder, steadying.
As soon as his hand touched her, he felt the tension in her body—like she was holding herself together by sheer will alone. For a second, he thought she might pull away, push forward, keep moving like she always did.
But instead, she broke.
She let out a slow, shuddering breath—one she had probably been holding since they left that damn moon. Before he could react, she turned, stepping closer, her hands coming up to rest against his chest as she buried her face against him.
It wasn’t desperate. It wasn’t falling apart. It was quiet. A slow unraveling, the kind that happened when someone had held too much for too long.
Garrus froze for just a second—not because he didn’t want to be here, but because he did. And then, without thinking, he wrapped his arms around her. Not tightly—nothing that would trap her, nothing that would make this more than what it was. But enough. Enough to steady her. Enough to remind her she wasn’t alone in this.
Her breathing was slow, controlled—barely. But he could feel the way her fingers curled slightly against his tunic, the way she was grounding herself in him.
For once, he didn’t say anything. Because there was nothing to say. He just held her.
And let her take the moment she needed.
Shepard
Shepard had found comfort in the routine of running the ship, sparring with Garrus, and helping him with the Mako. They had stopped at a couple of planets along the way to scout and pick up resources. This morning, however, she found herself without much work to do. Thanks to Garrus, who had taken over handling most of her minor reports, ship status reviews, and handling minor crew questions regarding their mission.
I’m hungry
Stepping out into the mess, it was empty. It was late, almost 1100. In retrospect, she wasn’t entirely sure what she had done all morning, but she certainly hadn’t eaten yet.
Cereal!
She had picked up some cereal the last time they were on the Citadel and she always kept powdered milk for a reason. It was odd though, cereal wasn’t a habit she had picked up growing up. Between her father and her grandmother, it wasn’t really something. Her father had found ways of adapting turian recipes to be levo friendly and her grandmother… well the staff always made a full breakfast. This was probably one of the first things she had done for herself after enlisting.
As she sat down to eat she heard the familiar crackle of the comms, “Commander, I need to discuss a personnel issue.” Joker’s voice came through the intercom, professional, serious.
Every time… she thought as she looked down at the bowl of cereal she had just grabbed. Someone probably would hate what she was about to do but… she was the commander of the Normandy now.
She tapped her comm. “On my way.”
Then she picked up her bowl of cereal and began walking up the stairs to the CIC. The Normandy had barely slowed from its last FTL jump, and already there was something else to deal with. She braced for impact as she stepped onto the bridge. But what she couldn’t figure out was what personnel issues Joker could have. Then again, people talked to him a lot.
As she reached the bridge, she could already see Joker sitting in his chair, grinning like he’d won a prize. Her steps slowed as she was instantly suspicious of whatever this was. “…Alright.” She said leaning on the chair next to him. “What’s the issue?”
“You brought a bowl of cereal to my bridge?” Joker said seeming genuinely offended at the act.
“You’re the one that called me up here, Joker,” she replied giving him a knowing look, “I’m also pretty certain it’s my bridge. Now what’s the issue?”
Appearing defeated, but not undeterred, Joker clasped his hands together. “I need shore leave.”
Shepard stared at him, blinking once, “What? No.”
Joker groaned dramatically, throwing his head back, “You didn’t even let me make my case!”
Shepard scooped up a spoonful of cereal before responding, “Joker.”
“Just hear me out.” He pleaded, no less dramatically.
She just stared at him as she patted down her cereal, waiting for him to continue.
“Zero Signal is playing on the Citadel. One night only.” He said, the excitement in his tone almost overflowing.
What are the odds? she thought, but she opted not to react and just let him keep making his case.
Joker leaned forward, undeterred, “They never do live shows, Shepard. Never. Do you understand how rare this is?”
She took another spoonful of her cereal, she realized she was starving. She had been distracted this morning.
Joker’s hands went up. “Think of morale.”
Shepard arched a brow. It was amazing now that she thought about it how much she didn’t need to really participate in conversations and people would keep going on their own.
Joker pressed on, “The crew needs this.”
She couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped her, now this was ridiculous. “We’ve been on this mission for three weeks, Joker.”
“Exactly! Three weeks! That’s forever!” he shot back as if it made any case whatsoever.
Shepard sighed, heavily, shaking her head but handing him her bowl of cereal while she looked for something on her omni-tool “Make yourself useful and patch a call through for me,” she said, voice almost too casual. “Here.” She said pushing the address from her omni-tool.
Joker, blinking. “So, you’re just ignoring me then?”
She grabbed her bowl of cereal back from him, and motioned for him to patch the call through without saying another word.
The comms rang. Twice. Three times.
A groggy voice picked up, rough with sleep. “Mmh—hello? Who is—”
Shepard grinned as she actually sat down on the chair next to Joker. “Sean, it’s 1100. Are you seriously still in bed?”
“Sparky?” Sean sounded almost surprised.
“You really are living up to this ‘rockstar’ lifestyle thing, aren’t you?” she said, shaking her head.
Joker nearly choked on air.
“Sparky, just because you like being responsible doesn’t mean the rest of us do. Also, are you eating? Cereal?”
Joker, full-on flailing, pointing at the comm like it’s some kind of crime scene. “Hold up. Hold the hell up. Is that—”
Sean, still groggy but waking up, chuckled. “You’re not alone I see. Sounds like someone just figured out who I am.”
Joker, absolutely losing his mind. “Commander, why the hell are you calling Sean Belmore?!”
Sean gasped audibly in mock offense. “Wait, she hasn’t told you about me? I’m wounded, Sparky.”
Suddenly movement out of the corner of her eye pulled her attention briefly. She looked back to find Garrus walking onto the cockpit. She smiled then turned back to her cereal. “It’s not my fault he didn’t ask. Today was the first day he’s ever mentioned Zero Signal to me.”
Joker’s eyes were wide, darting between her and the screen “Okay, back up. You know Sean Belmore?!”
Sean perked up slightly, though his voice was still lazy, “Know me? Sparky was Zero Signal before Zero Signal was famous.”
Shepard rolled her eyes. “Sean, I wrote like three songs for you. You really need to stop telling people that.”
He chuckled softly now, sounding more awake “You wrote the music, lyrics, sang them, and played the guitar. You wrote our hit single in case you forgot.”
Joker grinned ear to ear. “I feel betrayed.”
“Let me guess, this is about the concert?” Sean asked, his tone betraying a measure of amusement.
Shepard leaned back into the seat smirking. “It seems that Joker here wants shore leave to go to it. He’s suggesting the whole crew deserves some shore leave even though we’ve been on mission for like 3 weeks.”
“And you want me to…?” Sean trailed of clearly knowing the answer but wanting to bait her.
Shepard groaned loudly in mock exasperation, “Sean, don’t make me ask.”
“Alright, alright. How many tickets?” He asked definitely sounding fully awake.
Shepard tapped her spoon against the cereal, pretending to consider. “50.”
Sean sighed loudly enough for it to come though. “See, I knew this was going to cost me. Do you realize I could sell these for thousands! Fans would kill—”
“Sean.”
“Sparky.”
“You didn’t even call to congratulate me.” Shepard added with an edge to her tone that was offended yet playful.
Sean, laughing now. “Alright, alright. Tell you what—VIP access, the whole works. But there’s a price, Spectre.”
Shepard laughed dryly, already expecting the ask. “Oh, here we go… What is it this time?”
“You have to actually show up to the pre-party and the after-party. No sneaking out like last time.” Sean teased.
Joker, staring between Shepard and the comms. “Okay, so many things happening. Where do I even start?”
Shepard glanced at him, but didn’t engage “Fine. You have yourself a deal.”
Sean’s voice dropped to a more expectant tone, “What about a song?”
“Don’t push your luck.” Shepard cut him off leaving no room to argue.
“It will work one day. I’m sending the details over. Don’t go dark on me before the show, alright?” Sean asked sounding more hopeful.
“Are you buying dinner?” Shepard asked, grinning.
“Feeding you? That’s what it will take?” Sean asked incredulously.
“I’m easy.” She shrugged.
Sean laughed warmly, “More like the most demanding girlfriend I’ve ever had. See you soon, Sparky.”
The comms cut and for a moment the bridge was silent. When Shepard got up from the seat, her gaze met Garrus’. He looked decidedly confused.
Suddenly, Joker broke the silence grinning like an idiot “Commander. What the hell was that?”
Shepard smirked, then shrugged “You said you wanted tickets.”
Joker was still flailing. “Commander. I feel like you buried the lede here. You used to be in Zero Signal… and are we even going to talk about this? Girlfriend? You’re dating Sean Belmore?”
Shepard’s tilted her head, nonchalantly. “Zero Signal wasn’t anything back then. It wasn’t relevant.”
Joker, muttering. “‘Wasn’t relevant,’ she says. Like she wasn’t almost the biggest damn rockstar in the galaxy. And girlfriend??”
Shepard shook her head, “Nothing to talk about, Joker.”
As she turned around, she noticed Garrus still standing at the entrance to the bridge, arms crossed, watching. He didn’t seem amused, or excited. He just seemed to be studying her.
She stepped closer to him, smiling. “Something on your mind, Vakarian?”
Garrus tilted his head slightly. “Did we just secure VIP access to a Zero Signal concert because you called your boyfriend?”
Shepard rolled her eyes. “Not my boyfriend.”
“Could’ve fooled me…” Garrus muttered, barely above a whisper.
Joker, turned around from his chair “Certainly didn’t sound that way, Commander. Romantic dinner with Sean Belmore?”
Shepard ignored Joker as she placed a hand on Garrus’ shoulder “Try not to overthink this, Vakarian.” She quipped walking out of the bridge.
Garrus
Garrus had just finished adjusting the heat sinks when he heard the familiar clank of boots on metal. He didn’t look up immediately—he knew exactly who it was.
Jane.
She always had a certain rhythm to the way she moved. Confident, unhurried, but deliberate. Whether she was walking into battle or just walking into the cargo bay, she carried the same ease.
He glanced over as she leaned against the Mako, arms folded across her chest.
“You look like you have something on your mind,” she said, smirking.
Garrus huffed, grabbing another tool from the crate. “Just the same thing everyone else on the ship does.”
Shepard tilted her head, watching him. “Well, what do you want to know?”
Garrus flicked an eye ridge. “Current or ex?”
Shepard laughed, shaking her head. “Why, are you jealous, Vakarian?”
He scoffed. “Hardly, pyjak.”
Her smirk widened. “Then why so curious?”
Garrus set the tool down and leaned back slightly, eyeing her. “Jane. You just called Sean Belmore, lead singer of Zero Signal, and got the entire crew VIP access to a concert that’s in a week while eating breakfast.”
Shepard smirked but didn’t say anything. It was as if she was calculating something.
Garrus gave her a knowing look. “And he’s the one that called you his girlfriend…”
Shepard snorted, but there was amusement in her eyes. “Fine. We dated when I was teenager, yeah. It ended shortly before I enlisted. It was nothing.”
“Uh-huh,” Garrus muttered, returning his focus to the Mako’s suspension.
She chuckled. “Teenage romance, nothing more.”
He hesitated for only a second before deciding, screw it. “Fine. And ‘Sparky’?”
Shepard actually laughed at that—genuine, unrestrained, the kind of laugh that made something settle in Garrus’ chest.
“You sound bothered by it.” she teased.
He huffed. “It’s been seared into my brain, Jane. He said it every other sentence.”
She grinned, nudging his arm as she sat down on the floor next to him. Right where she always did.
“It’s nothing,” she admitted, stretching out her legs. “Same reason my dad calls me ‘Pyjak’—too much energy. One day, I guess Sean decided I was sparky, and it stuck.”
Garrus scoffed, shaking his head. “You don’t seem like a sparky.”
Shepard smirked. “Yet you don’t seem to mind ‘pyjak’.”
He raised a brow plate. “Because you’re absolutely a pyjak.”
Shepard laughed, but didn’t deny it. Deep down, he was realizing she probably preferred ‘pyjak’ over ‘sparky’. She had never stopped him from calling her that despite the fact that he was certain her father was the only other person who called her that. She seemed comfortable with it.
After a pause, Shepard glanced toward the exposed panel he had been working on. “So, what are you actually doing?”
Garrus blinked, briefly thrown off by the change in subject.
“Adjusting the suspension,” he finally answered, grabbing his tools again. “The handling’s been off since Feros. It needs more weight distribution in the rear stabilizers, or it’ll overcorrect under rapid fire.”
Shepard hummed, “And that means you need to do what exactly?”
As Garrus began explaining the work he’d need to do, how exactly it would affect the handling, and more importantly, how it would better stabilize the Mako so he could keep it more steady while she was manning the guns he couldn’t help but watch her. Every time, she sat here with him she never seemed bored or distracted. And something about that continued to surprise him.
He chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re lucky I like doing this, you know? I don’t see any of your crew spending this much time with the Mako.”
She grinned, resting her arms over her knees. “That’s why I keep you around, Garrus.”
And just like that, the conversation settled into something familiar.
Garrus
Garrus found himself standing next to Shepard as they were reviewing the galaxy map charting their next set of missions. They still needed to get to Noveria, but with the concert in a couple of days, they didn’t have that kind of time. However, the amount of missions being forwarded to her by the Alliance was piling up.
He wasn’t entirely certain he agreed with all these missions, but most of them were people who were genuinely in trouble, and if there was anything he had come to learn about Shepard was that she would never stop trying to help people.
“Message coming in, Commander. Patching it through,” Joker’s voice crackled over the comms.
Garrus glanced over to Shepard as she leaned over the galaxy map, arms folded, eyes narrowing slightly as Admiral Hackett’s voice came through.
“Normandy. You’re our closest ship to the Attican Beta cluster. One of our drones was scanning for geth activity in the region when it was shot down. We need you to recover the data on it before the geth do.”
Shepard straightened. “Understood, Admiral.”
“Coordinates sent. Good luck. Hackett out.”
Shepard exhaled, looking up. “Joker, set a course for Eletania.”
“On it, Commander,” Joker said. “Should be a fun little road trip.”
Garrus highly doubted that.
Three hours later, they were bouncing across the most mountainous terrain Garrus had ever seen in the goddamn Mako.
“I swear,” Shepard grumbled, gripping the side of her seat as Garrus navigated yet another ridiculous incline, “I think Joker deliberately drops us off in the worst place just so I have to put up with this.”
“Or,” Garrus quipped, flicking a few controls as the Mako steadied itself for exactly two seconds before hitting another dip, “you just have terrible luck.”
Shepard huffed, glaring at him, “You’re the one driving, Vakarian. Maybe it’s your luck we should be concerned with.”
“Maybe, but at least that also means my driving is the reason we haven’t flipped yet,” he shot back.
Shepard narrowed her eyes at him through her visor. “Spirits… remind me why I keep you around?”
Garrus mandibles twitched “Because you need me to drive.”
He could almost hear her annoyance through the comms. “Fair point,” she conceded.
They hit another dip and Shepard nearly smacked her head on the console. “Dammit!”
Garrus laughed. “You wanted me to slow down. I’m slowing down!”
“You’re slowing down by launching us into orbit!”
Tali, ever the voice of reason, sighed. “Keelah, please focus. The drone should be nearby.”
Shepard adjusted the scanner as the Mako crested another ridge. “There. Should be over by that clearing.”
Garrus brought the Mako to a stop near the wreckage, and the three of them hopped out.
The drone had seen better days—scorched metal, broken plating, a half-buried data port.
Tali crouched beside it, examining the wreckage. “This is the surveillance drone. But where is the data module?”
Shepard scanned the area, frowning. “It should be right—”
She stopped.
Garrus followed her gaze.
Two pyjak corpses lay about fifteen feet away. Garrus blinked and then started laughing.
“Oh, this is too good,” he said, already too pleased with himself. “The data module was stolen by pyjaks, and you’re the one sent to retrieve it.”
Shepard turned, glaring at him through her helmet in mock offense.
Tali hesitated, clearly not understanding what was happening. “I… don’t follow?”
Garrus shook his head, grinning under his visor. “Shepard is going to have to chase down a bunch of pyjaks to find it. Because fate has a sense of humor.”
Shepard muttered something under her breath and stomped toward the nearest pack of pyjaks.
Tali tilted her head, watching Shepard dig through a pile of very confused primates. “Should we… be concerned?”
Garrus crossed his arms. “Nope. This is officially my new favorite mission.”
Shepard flipped him off over her shoulder.
After nearly twenty minutes of pyjak hunting, they found a pack of pyjaks just outside what appeared to be an old dig site. There was evidence that pyjaks may be using the dig site as a home.
Once inside, they found several other groups of pyjaks and, finally, in a room over to the side found the one that had taken the data module.
“I am never talking about this mission again,” Shepard said, shaking her head, though a smirk played at her lips.
They barely had time to turn back toward the center of the digsite before they started getting shot at. By geth. They must have come in here right after them because they were already dug into the main room.
Garrus was already moving. “Figures.”
Tali pulled her shotgun. “We’re surrounded!”
The geth opened fire instantly—rapid pulses of plasma lighting up the air. Shepard ducked behind a couple of crates, Garrus dropping into a firing stance beside her.
“See, now this?” Shepard said as she fired at the closest geth. “This I expected.”
“You mean you weren’t expecting geth pyjaks?” Garrus fired a burst from his rifle, dropping a sniper unit before it could get a shot off.
“Oh no! Do you think they could be making geth pyjaks?” Shepard asked almost worried, tossing a grenade into a cluster of geth troopers.
Then she grunted, “We have snipers, take them out.”
Garrus quickly scanned the room, finding the ones she meant. He took one down easily.
That’s when he caught it—blood. And underneath, that familiar coconut scent.
Instantly, he turned to Shepard, she had just stepped out of cover taking a shot at the other sniper.
Then Tali picked off the last one, “I think that was the last of them,” and the battlefield fell into silence.
Shepard stood up, looking around the room, “I think you’re ri—”
Garrus pulled her toward him, urgently “You’re hit,” he said as he looked her over.
“It’s nothing, just a graze” Shepard said, rolling her shoulder—
That’s when he saw it, the blood on her arm. It wasn’t easy to see on the black of her armor, but now he was certain that was the smell of her blood he had sensed. He quickly grabbed her arm dispensing medi-gel.
Shepard raised a brow. “Vakarian?”
Garrus snapped back to reality. “That’s not a graze. You’re going to the med bay.”
She sighed heavily like he was the one being dramatic. “Garrus—”
“Now.”
Shepard gave him a look but relented, shaking her head as she started toward the Mako.
Garrus followed right beside her, jaw tight, every instinct screaming that he needed to get that damn injury looked at. Yet some part of him knew he was probably overreacting, but he found he couldn’t get his own heartrate under control. So long as he could keep smelling her blood, he was struggling to stay composed.
Something about the scent of her blood unsettled him in the worst, and the best, way. And that was something he couldn’t quite reconcile.