Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Garrus scanned the warehouse uneasily. Sidonis had called him to this warehouse saying he'd found another Blood Pack  weapons shipment, but there was no sign of the other turian. He should have been here by now…

There! A flash of light behind a stack of crates, not one of their standard signals…

Garrus rounded the stack of crates warily, sniper rifle cradled in his arms. 

The first thing he noticed was that there was still no sign of Sidonis. The second thing he noticed was an armored figure sprawled on the ground. The third thing he noticed was the bloody hole through the figures leg.

Giving the area another check to make sure no one was sneaking up on him, Garrus knelt by the figure and scanned them with his omni-tool.

That was odd… the armor appears to be interfering with his scans. There was an unfamiliar pistol in a holster at the beings hip and an equally unfamiliar rifle near its hand, several knives around his person, and a belt full of pouches and several orbs that were likely grenades of some kind. 

Falling back on his old emergency aid training from C-Sec he rested one hand gently on the figures chest and held his breath until he felt the gentle rise and fall beneath his hand. Alive. Ok, well that's something. 

He reached for his med pack and jabbed a medi-gel injector into the hole in the beings leg and triggering it.

The figure jolted upright, throwing a punch at him in the same motion. Garrus quickly snatched their wrist and redirected their momentum to send them from their new sitting position to their back once again. He rested his other hand on their chest again.

"Stay down a minute and let the medi-gel work, I don't think you lost too much blood but you were already unconscious when I found you."

The figure under his hand was stiff and tense.

"Vaii ni? Tion'ad gar?"

Well shit…

"You… don't understand anything I'm saying, do you?" Garrus sat back for a moment and activated his omni-tool again to scan for any computer systems this being might be using, maybe a translation program? There! Com system seemed to be helmet based with controls on one of the vambraces.

"Meg'bac?! Meg gar vaaban?"

Garrus held up a single digit, hoping the request for patience was universal enough. It seemed to work as the being sat up, now that he wasn't being pinned anymore, but didn't attempt to rise further yet.

Going back to his omni-tool, Garrus quickly located an utterly alien seeming port listed under his communications suite. He linked into it and then nearly reared back as his omni-tool flared with a flood of unrecognizable symbols. 

"Right. New language, new writing system. Makes me wish… well never mind. Data is data, just have to find the patterns."

Just then the station shook with a distant explosion and Garrus sprang to his feet even as his comm pinged. He quickly switched to the active signal.

"Archangel!"

"Baker, wha-" the human man appeared frantic. 

"Blue Suns coming over the bridge! Sensat and Ripper are down! They were on watch outside and I-w-we can't even get past the doors to check if they're still alive!" Gunfire roared in the background and another explosion nearly knocked the man off his feet. "We need backup!"

"Shit! I'm on my way!" 

"Wai-huh? What about Sidonis?"

"He never showed. At this point we may have to assume Blue Suns got him," he answered grimly. "Hold on, I'll be there as soon as I can." He terminated the connection as he stood, quickly checking his weapons out of habit. As he turned to go he stopped.

The stranger was now standing as well, checking over his own weapons with comfortable familiarity. They finished their check, seemingly satisfied, and looked to him with a nod.

"Gar aliit? Kaysh linibar gaa'tayl. Gar cuy'gaa'tayl, vor'entye," he motioned to his formerly injured leg. "Ni kelir gaa'tayl gar. Haat, ijaa, haa'it." He thumped a fist against his chest in some form of salute, then held his hand out as if for a human handshake. "Jaster Mereel."

Garrus was a little taken aback. It was hard to tell with the language barrier but… he thought that might have been an offer to help. At the very least he was fairly sure that last phrase was an introduction. "Garrus Vakarian," he held his own hand out and was surprised again when the being grasped his forearm in a turian greeting instead of a handshake. 

As the stranger, Jaster apparently, released the grip his head tilted to the side curiously. Garrus was surprised yet again as the being sounded out his name, not as most beings said it through a translation program, but actually sounding out the growl-hiss… although the Palaveni sounded horribly flat without subvocals behind it.

"Uh right. Garrus. And you're Jaster."

The being nodded again and then gestured to Garrus' wrist- to his omni-tool and spoke again in that incomprehensible language. 

"Vi ru'kir slanar."

The words sounded completely different… but that familiar cadence still sent a flare of familiar pain right to his gut.

"Right. This way."

-SW-ME-SW-ME-SW-ME-

Running through the alleyways of what looked to be a massive space station, chasing a being he'd only just met, Jaster thought about everything he'd observed since waking up in this strange place and pointedly did *not* think about his ad. He was confused about a lot of things. He'd been on Korda VI, facing that shabuir Tor Vizsla and fairly certain he was about to be marching on… and then he was waking up in what seemed to be a warehouse with an unknown being apparently treating the leg Vizsla had shot.

Whatever that stuff was certainly seemed to work faster than bacta. 

This Grruss had seemed to be looking for ways to communicate before that call had come in, but it was obvious he'd never seen or heard Mando'a before and what he spoke was so far from Galactic Basic that he doubted he'd have any more luck that way.

As for that call itself… the man who'd called had been human or near and clearly both frantic and under attack. Grruss had reacted with clear concern and a note of command in his responses. This was the verd's aliit under attack, somewhere close enough to get to judging by their haste.

Wherever this was seemed about as upright and moral as Tatooine; it was clear that most of those they passed would have been more likely to finish him off and strip his corpse for valuables. 

Grruss had helped him. Treated his wound, kept him from aggravating it further, and had been looking to actually communicate. It was clear to Jaster that he owed the being a debt, and he fully intended to pay it.

At least the stranger's T-visor was comfortingly familiar. 

Chapter Text

Garrus took a deep breath and lined up another shot while he waited for the call to connect. It had been five days since he'd been called away from the base and found an injured stranger instead of his squad mate. It had taken them less than an hour to traverse Omega's alleys and fight their way through the mercs to get back to his base. Of his ten squad mates there, only four had still been alive. By the third day it was just him and Jaster.

"Hello?" The familiar voice, brusque and efficient as ever, cut through the exhausted stim-addled haze of his mind and he had to swallow what felt like a stone in his throat before he could respond. 

"Dad." Breathe. Fire. Shift targets. 

"Garrus? Is that you? What's that noise?"

"Just a little target practice." Breathe. Fire. Breathe. How do you say goodbye? The word alone seemed so… empty.

"Then call me back later." There's the Dad he remembered, always busy.

"I don't think I'll be able to do that. Too many targets." And there's his old friend dark humor.

"...I see." Of course he did. After decades in C-sec he hardly needed Garrus to spell it out.

"I just wanted to hear your voice. Wanted to know how retirement was treating you. You good?" Just… keep shooting. Keep breathing, keep talking. Don't let on how long it's been since he'd had more than a few minutes of sleep at a time, how the stims that kept him moving made his limbs shake if he didn't focus.

"I’m fine. Forget about that." Dad sounded worried now. Probably wondering just what he'd gotten into this time.

"Listen, I don’t have a lot of time. I wanted to say… you were right about things. A lot more than I gave you credit for. And I’m sorry we butted heads so much." He wouldn't apologize for quitting C-sec and joining Sh- joining a Spectre. He couldn't regret that, even now.

"I said, forget about that. These targets you’re practicing on – they’re moving fast?" 

"So far, not fast enough. But they’re learning." The gangs had all but stopped sending their own people on the second day. Omega had no shortage of freelance mercs. Well, it hadn't. They may have changed that by now with how many kept coming over the barricade in waves.

"How are your thermal clips?"

"You know how it is. Could always use a couple more." They'd have enough for another day of this at most. Jaster had managed to rig a recharging station for his weapons power packs, but that took time and he'd started resorting to the weapons in the fortified apartment while he waited for more ammo. 

"Work with what you’ve got, then. You don’t stop pulling that trigger until it clicks, son. No matter how bad things are falling apart around you, as long as you have at least one bullet left, you can still get the job done. Understand? You finish up what you have to do there, and then you come on home to Palaven. We have a lot to sort out."

"Yeah. We do. Thanks, Dad. For everything." This was it then. He fumbled for something, anything more to say-

A familiar splash of color crossing the barricade caught his eye and his breath caught in his throat. He brought his rifle back up, switching to concussive rounds and scanning- It wasn't possible- He had to be hallucinating from the stress and the stims-

There! Peeking out from behind the cover of one of the bridge support pillars. Glossy black armor, bulkier than he remembered- red and white stripe down one arm. The helmet- He couldn't see. He had to see! 

He fired directly into the faceplate of the helmet, cracking it and knocking the person stumbling back. She pulled off the damaged helmet and- 

Copper hair brushed her chin in sweaty strands. Green eyes glared furiously. Her jaw clenched and her shoulders squared just like they always had-

And she launched herself forward in a blaze of biotics, slamming into one of the actual mercs and following up with a blast from her shotgun. 

It was her. This was real. She was alive! She was alive and she was coming for him!

He knew his sub vocals were all but screaming his newfound hope and wonder but he couldn't make himself care. "I'll call you back, Dad. Things aren't so bad after all."

He terminated the call before his father could say anything and scanned the bridge again. She'd already made it inside his range, but she never worked alone. And anyone she was with wouldn't look like the rest of these punks.

One stood out immediately. The bright white catsuit was hard to miss. He'd seen dancers at Afterlife who covered more! The black and yellow logo on her chest through his scope made him want to pull the trigger. What the hell was she doing with Cerberus? 

The surprise terrorist almost made him miss the professional. Zaeed Massani, widely accepted as one of the single deadliest beings in the Terminus. His battered armor and scarred face certainly spoke of his long and storied career. Hell, before being betrayed Zaeed had been one of the founders and leaders of the Blue Suns, back when they'd been a respectable mercenary company.

The familiar sounds of biotics mixed with a heavy firefight erupted on the ground floor. Time to stop wool gathering, she'll be at the door any minute now. Speaking of the door…

"Jaster," he called out, ducking to the side of the window so he could turn to face the door. Sure enough Jaster was where he'd left him, keeping watch on the other end of the room from next to the door. He had his own pistol in hand and Baker's ancient Lancer on his back, ready to shoot whoever made it through the door. Which, for the first time in days, was a problem. 

He held up one hand, both fingers and his thumb splayed wide. "Three. Coming up." He pointed to the door. 

Jaster nodded and lifted his pistol to aim at the door. 

"No! Friendlies." He tried to remember the word Jaster had last used days ago through the persistent haze of too many stims and too little sleep. "Vot."

Jaster relaxed marginally. "Vod? Gar vod olaror ti t'ad?"

Garrus nodded. "Yes, she's my vod. We're going to make it out of here."

Shouting started up from the barricade again and Garrus took up his position at the window again, scanning the bridge and barricade through his scope. There was still one merc on the bridge…

The door opened at the back of the room, followed by a brief silence as she no doubt stared down the unexpected guard. 

"Archangel?" Why was she calling him that? Hadn't she come for him? He held up a finger asking for patience. A heartbeat later the merc leaned out of cover and lost their head.

He straightened tiredly and turned, sitting on the back of one of the couches. Where had she been? Did she even care? ...Was it really her? He pulled off his helmet and took a deep breath. There! Under the metal and grime was a familiar scent, tainted by antiseptics and chemicals that usually indicated a long time in a medical facility but beneath that…

"Shepard. I thought you were dead." But she wasn't. The smell of spring rains and hot metal filled his senses and he decided it was a good thing humans couldn't hear subvocals or he'd be worried about embarrassing himself. 

"Garrus!" Her joy at seeing him was unmistakable and made something in his chest loosen. She hadn't known he was here, but she was obviously happy to see him. "What are you doing here?"

"Just keeping my skills sharp. A little target practice."

"You okay?" She was worried about him. Well that was fair, he was worried about her too. Where had she been? Why was she with someone from Cerberus? 

"Been better, but it sure is good to see a friendly face. Killing mercs is hard work, even if I'm not alone."

"Speaking of, who's your friend?" She tilted her head towards Jaster inquiringly. 

"Something of a mystery actually. I found him wounded just before all this went down. The language he speaks isn't in any translator program I have, even the ones from Liara." He pointed to Jaster and called his name to get his attention, then pointed to Shepard. "Commander Shepard. Shepard."

Jaster repeated her name in that odd accent of his and stuck out a hand in greeting. "Ner gai Jaster Mereel, Mand'alor be Haat'ade." She went to shake his hand and he grasped her forearm firmly. It seemed to throw her a little off balance, he mused. 

"Commander Shepard," she replied before turning back to Garrus "What're you doing out here on Omega?"

"Got fed up with all the bureaucratic crap on the Citadel. Figured I could do more good on my own. At least it's not hard to find criminals here, all I have to do is point my gun and shoot."

"How'd you manage to piss off every major merc organization in the Terminus Systems?" I guess we're ignoring the mystery for now. He knew that wouldn't last, she always went looking for more intel.

"It wasn't easy. I really had to work at it. I am amazed that they teamed up to fight me. They must really hate me. My supervisors back at C-sec would be impressed." Maybe not surprised, though. He'd always been good at pissing people off.

"Since when did you start calling yourself Archangel?" Oh. Oh that.

"It's just a name the locals gave me for all my good deeds. Ah I don't mind it but, please. It's just 'Garrus' to you." He knew she'd never forget about this, no matter how much he wanted her to. Being compared to Spirits was… well mostly embarrassing from someone as amazing as her.

"You nailed me good out there by the way."

"Concussive rounds only. No harm done. Didn't want the mercs getting suspicious." Play it cool, she didn't need to know how bad it was.

"Uh huh." Shit, she didn't buy it. He couldn't just come out and say he was making sure she wasn't a hallucination, could he?

"If I wanted to do more than take your shields down, I'd have done it. Besides, you were taking your sweet time. I needed to get you moving."

"Well we got here, but I don't think getting out will be as easy."

"No, it won't. That bridge has saved my life… funneling all these witless idiots into scope. But it works both ways. They'll slaughter us if we try to get out that way."

"So we just sit here and wait for them to take us out?" His hands twitched and he grabbed his rifle again. Right. Cerberus was involved here somehow. Best not say too much about anything. 

"It's not all that bad. This place has held them off so far. And with the three of you… I suggest we hold this location, wait for a crack in their defenses, and take our chances. It's not a perfect plan. But it's a plan." He stood, reflexively checking his rifle.

"How'd you let yourself get into this position?" She sounded concerned, outright worried even and it was making his subvocals trill and keen at the back of his throat. He caught Jaster giving him a look through his helmet and wondered again if the human seeming man could actually hear the low frequency sounds that conveyed emotion. 

"My feelings got in the way of my better judgment, it's a long story. I'll make you a deal, you get me out of here alive and I'll tell you the whole damn thing." And he would. He still believed in her. Even if she did show up with a Cerberus agent.

"If we fight as a team, we'll hold them off." Always looking to band together, definitely her.

"You're right. Their numbers won't help them in here anyway. Let's see what they're up to." He strode back to the window and looked out through his scope. Figures in yellow and white with light mechs. Eclipse. 

"Hmm. Looks like they know their infiltration team failed. Take a look. Scouts. Eclipse, I think." He handed her his trusty sniper and watched closely for this final test. He'd modified it to use heat sinks over the last two years, but that was still the same HMWSR Master X she'd given him when he left the Normandy for Spectre training with her recommendation. Still the same biometric locks keeping it from firing for anyone but the Spectre who bought it or that they programmed in themselves. 

"That looks like a lot more than scouts." He held his breath… and then the rifle kicked against her shoulder and a merc went down. She handed it back with a grin. "One less now."

"Indeed. We'd better get ready. I'll stay up here, I can do a lot of damage from this vantage point. You… you can do what you do best. Just like old times, Shepard."

And for a little while, covering her as she sowed chaos and death across their battlefield, it really was. His heart was singing with hope and victory…

And then the damn gunship came back.

~SW~ME~SW~ME~SW~ME~

Jaster carried one end of the stretcher and the other verd, Zaeed, had the front. Grruss, or Garrus Shepard had called him, was stretched between them in bad shape. He lay on one side, rifle still clutched close even unconscious, the exposed side of his face a blue bloody wreck, the armor around his neck on that side burnt and a chunk of it was missing. Shepard stalked ahead of them as the woman in white tried to argue with her. Shepard's replies were short and clipped as they rode the lift to a different deck of the ship.

When the doors of the lift opened again Shepard was off like a strill with a scent and the rest of them followed. She led them through a common area where crewmen were eating and directly into a windowed room to one side. 

It was clearly a medbay, though the machines were unfamiliar to him. The white haired woman who began barking orders was just as clearly baar'ur of this domain. They quickly got Garrus onto one of the beds and got out of her way. 

The medbay door was blocked. The woman in white was arguing with Shepard again. He didn't like this. He'd thought she was Alor here, and Garrus seemed distrustful of this other woman. And apparently Shepard had had enough. 

Glowing with that strange blue power people here seemed to use she waved a hand and the woman in white slammed against the bulkhead halfway to the ceiling and remained held there as Shepard hissed at her like an angry nexu. After what seemed to be a grudging assent from her captive Shepard released her with a firm shove into the medbay, then turned to storm back towards the lift. Jaster and Zaeed both ran to follow, getting there just in time before the doors closed.

She looked at them both curiously and spoke with Zaeed. Their language still didn't sound like any he knew, but with enough exposure and some work he could start figuring it out. After speaking with Zaeed she turned to him, frowning a bit.

"You wouldn't be going back out there if it wasn't important. I'm willing to bet you're going to get someone who can help Garrus. I'm going to help." He tried to make his body language as expressive as possible, frequently a necessity when dealing with aruetii. It seemed to work well enough as she nodded, her previous uncertainty melting away to pure determination. The doors opened and they were off again, through a command center to an airlock where she fidgeted as they waited through what seemed to be standard decontamination. 

Once they were back within the grimy halls of the station she lead them at a brisk jog past a market and to a sealed door with an armed guard of Garrus' species posted at it. There was a woman arguing with the guard who didn't seem to be getting what she wanted. Shepard spoke with the guard and apparently got them clearance to pass through. On the other side they continued on past barricades and checkpoints until they began encountering more of those poorly trained verde in blue and white. His new companions called them "bloo sohns" but he had no idea what it actually meant. 

They weren't very far in when they found the first burning pile of corpses. This was… this was some kind of quarantine, some plague. Seems he was likely right about them looking for another doctor. They stopped to help or talk to anyone they came across, but there was a tension in Shepard that hadn't been there when he'd watched her talk with Garrus back at the base. At one point they came across the "bloo sohns" fighting some of the "bludd pak" in red. Shepard lead the charge seemingly impatient to get through them. It became apparent why as they turned another corner to find a door next to a window staffed by a human man and more of those battle droids. The man said a few words and Shepard swept past him through the door.