Shepard

The image of Regent flicked out. A second later, the lights in the War Room came back to life.

"Systems back online," EDI said.

"Joker!"

"On it!"

The ship lurched. The main terminal in the War Room displayed a spherical map of space, with a blue triangle standing for their location and a big, red mark standing for Regent. The red mark was closing in fast with the blue.

The fight had begun.

Solana

Aldus—or Regent, or whatever the unnatural thing that stood before them was—sprung with speed she couldn't believe; one minute it was there, and the next it was high above, a crimson light charging in his mouth.

"Move!"

She was suddenly pushed over, and her and Garrus fell out of the way just as a laser beam seared through the metal floor where they'd stood.

Regent fell pointedly at them, propelling his fall with—biotics? Could Reapers pervert that too? They rolled out of the way, Garrus in one direction, Solana in another, as Regent crashed down on them. Solana drew her pistol and blindly fired in its direction; as fast as it was, aiming was no use at this range.

The others fired at it too. One of Garrus' shots hit—or seemed to hit. The creature stirred when the bullet made impact, but the shot didn't seem to hit as much as just...flicker. It turned its gaze to Garrus. Her brother stood his ground and stared back, his visor blinking in his eye.

Garrus

He'd seen this thing before. Well, not exactly this thing, but its figure and movements were nearly identical to that of Saren when he was possessed by Sovereign all those years ago. Killing it had been a nightmare, but this time they weren't in an enclosed space—and the creature was outnumbered.

His visor made quick calculations of its movements and contrasted them with Sovereign's old data. Within moments he had an algorithm that predicted Regent's movements—within a statistically acceptable margin of error.

He pointed his rifle, not at Regent, but at where Regent would be in the next half-second, and then fired.

Regent materialized at the spot the millisecond before Garrus' shot hit. The bullet impacted against metal, creating a quick spurt of sparks, and Regent recoiled for an instant. Garrus used that instant to load another shot while his visor calculated. The visor lit up the next target area, and Garrus swung and fired just before Regent jumped. The shot landed just like the first, and Regent recoiled, snarling like some mechanical beast.

Garrus allowed himself to feel a small sense of smug satisfaction. Saren had been much harder to hit due to their enclosed space—he kept jumping off the walls and corners of the Council chamber garden. Here, it was wide open, and this time he had experience on his side.

He prepped another shot and started to aim. He caught movement in his peripheral vision a split second before something large crashed into him, knocking the wind out of his chest and sending him into a rolling dive several feet away.

His head ringing, he looked up at whatever hit him.

It was Lutis.

Solana

Lutis knocked Garrus away before anyone even saw him move. Regent immediately turned its gaze on her and pounced.

Even with her shield up, the impact was what she imagined being hit by a small car at full speed would be like, only this car had metal swords for talons that dug into her armor and pierced her carapace like she was made of wet cardboard. The two of them tumbled through an ancient railing into open air.

She heard someone yell out her name as she fell. Regent let go of her mid-air as she spun.

Panicking, she drew in a burst of dark energy and fired, randomly, into the air, creating a singularity she hoped was strong enough to catch her mid-fall. Her descent slowed, and for a few moments she floated aimlessly around the small black hole she created, surveying the area above and below.

She had fallen about thirty feet, and the floor was about twenty more feet away. She charged up a shot, focusing the energy in her knees rather than her wrists. When she was stabilized, her feet pointing downward, she let the singularity go and fell the rest of the way, releasing a pulse of energy to try and cushion her fall. She rolled with the impact, which focused most of the landing on her knees and elbows, but at least she could stand. She spun a full 360 degrees, looking for Regent. She definitely had heard it land, but wherever it was, she knew the fall didn't kill it.

"DO YOU THINK THIS MAKES YOU A HERO?"

The horrible voice sounded as though it came from everywhere at once. She wasn't sure if it came from inside or outside her head.

"WIN OR LOSE, LIVE OR DIE, IT CHANGES NOTHING. YOU ARE A COWARD, SOLANA VAKARIAN."

"Shut up!" She had to get back up to the others. There had to be stairs or a ladder or...something!

"WHILE SO MANY OTHERS RAN INTO DANGER, YOU RAN AWAY, AWAY FROM THE REAPERS, FROM THE CABALS, FROM YOUR MOTHER."

There. A red glint the flashed through her vision just ahead. Was Regent using a cloaking device?

Could it be similar to what the hastatim used?

A blow from out of nowhere landed against her chest, launching her backward. She saw the shimmer in the air of Regent darting away. She fired blindly into the air with her pistol, climbing to her feet in the process, but hit nothing but wall.

"YOU WILL FOREVER REMAIN SHROUDED IN OBSCURITY, YOUR SIGNIFICANCE MEASURED ONLY BY COMPARISON TO YOUR BROTHER. YOUR FATHER HAS ALREADY BEGUN TO TURN HIS BACK ON YOU. LIKE HISTORY, HE WILL SOON CEASE TO NOTICE YOUR EXISTENCE."

She fired some more, screaming to try and drown him out, but the voice echoed in her head like her own thoughts, louder than any explosion and impossible to ignore. She frantically scanned the area for a way back up. She had to get out of there. She had to! She twisted and turned in every direction, firing in the direction of the slightest speck in her vision, but never hitting anything. There was no way out, no way out, no way out...

She stopped. No way out...except one.

She looked at the gun in her hand, suddenly very aware of its weight, its heat radiating through her hand from being fired so many times.

She couldn't fight Regent alone. She would die, and die horribly, once Regent stopped toying with her. And who knew how long that would be? It didn't eat or sleep or stop; it could torture her for years if it wanted before killing her, or spirits-god-no what if she ended up like Lutis? Or Aldus?

She couldn't let that happen; not even the possibility could be allowed to exist. The only way out was if she ended it first. Quick and simple, painless, one single shot through the temple and poof, no more Reapers, no more Regent, no more pain in her neck or nightmares about a school full of innocents being obliterated or Garrus' secrets or her mother's illness. If that was the end result anyway, why not get it over with on her own terms? It made perfect sense.

Except...

Except something wasn't right.

It made perfect sense. But it was still wrong, somehow. Why? She always prided herself on being a rational person; there had to be a reason, and she could almost feel it digging just above the surface of her consciousness.

There was a flash out of the corner of her eye, coming from up above. She looked up, wondering what new torture this could be.

Shepard

The ship abruptly went dark for a single terrifying moment, then the lights came on a second later.

"Control of navigational systems back online," EDI said.

"Joker," Shepard ordered, "punch it!"

The ship jumped, knocking him off balance, but he maintained his footing, unlike Ari'ka, who tumbled to the ground.

"Orders, sir?" Joker's voice was focused, all his attention on his flying rather than his jokes. That was good.

Shepard watched the readout in front of him as it updated in real time with their own position relative to Regent's. A third marker showed the Relay, their only way back, blinking alone and stationary. The Reaper marker, on the other hand, was speeding toward it.

"Intercept," Shepard said. "We can't let it jump the Relay. Karam, get the cannon ready."

"She's been ready...sir." The batarian replied from the Main Battery. "Waiting on your signal."

He figured Regent would attempt to do something like Sovereign had at the Citadel and try to gain control of Omega. Even with the galaxy's entire army waiting on the other side of the Relay they couldn't risk Regent getting there. An army had been waiting for Sovereign, too.

"HE DOES NOT LOVE YOU."

Shepard tensed up. He looked at the others in the War Room; some were shaking their heads or looking up, confused. Others appeared not to notice anything.

"Ooh," Ari'ka said, rubbing his temples. "My head...I don't feel good all of a sudden..."

"Don't listen to it," Shepard said. "Whatever it says."

"Sir?" Vega said. "What do you mean? I don't hear anything."

Shepard shook his head. "Nevermind. Focus on the attack."

"HE LOVES YOUR POWER, YOUR STATUS, YOUR PRESTIGE. BUT NOT YOU. WERE YOU A SIMPLE, UNKNOWN HUMAN, HE WOULD NOT SPARE YOU A SECOND GLANCE."

He held the ends of the computer table hard enough to make his knuckles hurt. Focus. Keep it out of your head. "Vega," Shepard said. "If I get...if something happens to me, retreat behind the Relay and have the Council prepare."

"Sir?"

"Just—do it, James. Please."

Vega nodded, looking concerned but determined.

Ari'ka wobbled on his feet. "I think—I think I need to go sit down. I'm sorry." He waddled out of the War Room on unsteady feet.

"YOU ARE NOTHING TO HIM BUT A PASSING AMUSEMENT, ANOTHER CONQUEST ON A LONG LIST OF DISCARDED PLAYTHINGS. ONCE HE GROWS BORED, HE WILL FIND HIMSELF ANOTHER TOY—ONE WILLING TO GIVE HIM OFFSPRING."

"—Shepard? Commander!"

He realized his eyes were closed. Vega was trying to get his attention. On the holographic map, Regent had passed their position and was heading straight for the Relay.

"Pursue," he said. "Don't let...don't let it..."

"HIS VERY EXISTENCE IS PROOF. YOUR FATHER, YOUR MOTHER, YOUR SISTER—ALL WHO TRULY LOVE YOU END UP DEAD."

He was briefly aware of falling, of hearing someone shout for him in the distance, before all went dark.

Garrus

Regent moved too fast for Garrus to react. He watched helplessly as it lunged, not for him, but for Solana. He was equally helpless when they tumbled down, through the railing to the abyss below.

"Solana!"

Sidonis reached the edge first, but too late to do anything but look down. Lutis seized the opportunity to jump onto Garrus' chest and throw his wild punches. A swipe knocked his visor off his face and sent it flying. Garrus held up his arms and defended his head as much as he could, but Lutis fought liked a cornered animal; Garrus could feel his spit drip onto him as his bloodied fists landed.

Pallin rushed behind Lutis. He bent down and grabbed Lutis by the carapace, then hauled him up and gave a punch of his own. Garrus heard the hard slam of knuckle against exoskeleton as he staggered to his feet, his arms blue and bleeding from where Lutis' talons had ripped off bits of armor.

"WEAK."

He saw a flash of blue. He shook his head and focused on the fight in front of him.

"YOU ARE WEAK. YOU HAVE ALWAYS BEEN WEAK."

Where was his visor? Garrus quickly searched the area. He found it on the ground several feet away, wires jutting out of its broken lens. Blood—either Lutis' or his own—stained the part where he'd carved in his teammates names.

"THEY ARE DEAD BECAUSE YOU WERE TOO WEAK TO SAVE THEM. AND NOW YOU FIGHT WITH THEIR KILLER."

Sidonis was still looking over the edge, where Solana fell. Garrus felt a long-buried rage fuel up inside him.

"YOUR FATHER. THE COUNCIL. C-SEC. SHEPARD. SIDONIS. ALL OF THEM HOLD YOU BACK. KEEP YOU WEAK."

Lutis fought with the skill of a trained hastatim agent combined with the ferocity of a feral animal. Zaeed had found cover and was trying to shoot him, but Lutis kept putting his father in the way, ducking shots and throwing punches, intermittently turning invisible with his cloak. When he vanished, all shots ceased; nobody wanted to risk hitting him and blowing them all up. His father stood, watching. Sudden, jerking motions showed he was being hit, wounds opening up along his face from out of nowhere as Lutis attacked unseen.

"EVEN NOW, HE HOLDS YOU BACK. HE, WHO IS NOTHING COMPARED TO YOU, WHO WOULD NOT ACKNOWLEDGE YOUR EXISTENCE, STILL CONTROLS YOUR LIFE."

The metal smell of blood shattered his focus. He always liked that smell, though he never told anyone.

What was he doing here?

The man who forced him to become a cop, then hindered his every step along the way, keeping him from ever really proving himself. Regulations, he'd said. We can't give the appearance of special treatment, he'd said. You will survive on your own merits, or you will not, he'd said. But that was never the case, was it?

And Sidonis.

If Garrus hadn't come out to this infernal station to play superhero, Sidonis might never have happened. He thought he could teach Sidonis, become something greater, but instead the traitor ripped everything he had away from him. He went from afraid of Garrus—how it should rightly be—to working with him, to fucking his sister.

And what of her? She had always opened her mouth without thinking, criticizing him when he had done more for her and their family in one day than she ever had in her miserable life. But she had the audacity to say he didn't care?

Perhaps caring had been the problem all along.

"YOU WILL NEVER BE MORE THAN A FOOTNOTE IN SHEPARD'S SHADOW. A SPECK. AN INSECT."

His jaw hurt from clenching his teeth so hard. The fighting went on around him in a haze. He heard someone call his name, but it was far away and muffled by his own thoughts.

He'd wasted so much time.

If he simply got rid of all the people who stood in his way, he could do anything. He could become Primarch—no, that was too small. He'd be God-Emperor of Palaven. He would conquer the entire galaxy. The Council would bow to him, if he decided not to execute them outright for their prior audacity. He'd have all the women he wanted—and they would give him whatever children he wanted, unlike Shepard. Shepard would be his pet, on display for all to see. Maybe he'd make all humans into pets; they were too weak for anything else. All the power in the galaxy would be his.

If they were disposed of first.

His legs moved before he was aware. His father's attention was on Lutis, so he never saw Garrus coming. Never expected to find himself on the ground, pinned, his son's hands closing around his throat.

This is what he was so afraid of as a child? This wide-eyed, gasping weakling? This is what dared to call his behavior "out of line" or his shooting "sloppy"?

He'd take care of Pallin first, then he'd move on Sidonis. Solana was probably already dead. Shepard...where was Shepard? It didn't matter.

His grip around Pallin's neck loosened. He'd never seen his father look so scared. He should be scared, but...why...did it feel so wrong?

Pallin kicked him off and he rolled to the side, his head spinning. Someone said something to him, but he couldn't understand; it was like he was underwater and everyone else was shouting from above.

Where was he?

Nothing made sense. He couldn't tell what was right or wrong, or why he should know the difference. There was supposed to be someone. Someone who always knew...

Shepard

He woke up on the floor. Vega was shouting orders above him, and the ship lurched with sudden movements like an old road-traversing car going into a skid.

"—stop until we get it off-track! Shepard! What's going on?"

Vega helped him stand. He couldn't tell if the vertigo was due to the ship or himself, but he kept the urge to vomit down. "I'm fine," he said, hardly able to convince himself let alone others. "What's happening?"

Joker interrupted over the radio. "Gahh! Someone get up here! The ambassador's going nuts!"

Shepard moved first, going through the door into the hall, Vega right behind. The ship lurched and he fell over, but Vega quickly helped him regain his balance. What the hell was going on?

He heard the ambassador screaming, a shrill sound like a raven mixed with a child. "We're all gonna die! It can't be stopped! There's no hope, nothing we can do, nothing we can do, nothing-!"

He was trying to wrest the controls away from Joker, who cursed as Ari'ka beat away his hands. Shepard and Vega reached them and pulled the struggling ambassador away. He kicked at their shins and swiped with his hands. He was strong; if he didn't have the suit on, his talons might have hurt like a turian's.

"Ambassador," Vega grunted, holding Ari'ka in a lock, "I'm very sorry about this, but..."

He squeezed, and Ari'ka struggled less and less, until he passed out from lack of air and proper blood flow.

"God, what was his deal?" Joker said. "He broke like four of my fingers."

"I think Regent got to him," Shepard said. "He tried to get to me too. Vega, help me get him to the med bay."

They picked the ambassador up and carried him to the med bay, where they cuffed him to a bed. Nest made some remarks, but Shepard ignored him.

"How long was I out?" He didn't think about the things he heard, like his own worst thoughts and fears layered on top of eachother a thousand times over.

"Just a few minutes. We're trying to keep the Reaper away from the Relay, but it's fast."

"Radio the Council and tell them to prepare on the other side."

"I'm worried they'll just destroy their Relay and strand us."

"We took that risk when we came here, James. Regent can't be allowed to reach Omega." He hoped Tali's people could keep them from destroying the Relay. If not...he tried not to think of Garrus, or the tens of thousands of light years between them.

Returning to the War Room and the projection that showed their movements along with the Reaper's, Shepard racked his brain for ideas. Harbinger-class Reapers were large enough to count as ships on their own, with their own weapons...

"Vega, do we still have a Combat Cockroach on board?"

"Yes, but what—"

Shepard was already moving to the radio on the wall. He pressed a button to turn it on. "Karam, are the weapons online?"

"Yes. Damn if that turian can't calibrate a good ion cannon..."

"Get it ready to fire. We might only have one shot."

"Got it."

Shepard made a mental note that the batarian didn't argue and continued. "I'm going to suit up," he said to Vega. "You stay in here and get between the Reaper and the Relay."

"What are you going to do?"

"Something loco." He punched the button and waited for the elevator to descend.

Garrus

A heavy weight pinned him down, and something slammed hard against the scarred side of his face. A krogan...enemy...no, not this one...Benaka? She had slapped him. Why?

In the background were gunshots, and a lot of shouting. Benaka had him pinned beneath her immense frame. His vision swam in every direction; even when he closed his eyes he felt like he was being bobbed by waves.

"Wha-?"

"This isn't the time to lose your sense, Vakarian."

"What...happened?"

Pallin groaned somewhere off to the side. Garrus spotted him on the ground, sluggishly raising his head before letting it drop like an immense weight.

"Oh, no," Garrus said, remembering. "I don't...I was so angry." He remembered the horrible things he had thought about his family, himself. "I don't know...why..."

"Well, I hope you got it out of your system, because we're three men down and Lutis is still—agh!"

A small piece of her carapace broke off from the invisible blow. She launched a biotic blast in the direction the blow came from, but whether or not it even made contact was impossible to determine. "I'm starting to get annoyed. I'm going to let you up now, but jump on one of us again and I'm taking you out of the picture."

Garrus nodded, fought back the vertigo as he stood on unsteady feet. Pallin lay on the ground nearby, his nose gushing blood and his left eye swollen shut. Garrus couldn't remember if he or Lutis had done that.

"You said we're three down," Garrus said. "My father, Solana, and...?"

"Sidonis. He took Drineax's jetpack and jumped after Solana."

"Damn it." Why didn't he think of that? "We need to deal with Lutis."

"Sounds good to me, but how?"

His visor was lying on the ground in pieces. He would have to work without it. "Can you do that thing you did with Solana? Make some biotic traps?"

Benaka nodded. "Only a few at a time, though."

"That'll work." He opened his omni-tool. "Everyone gather together."

They all stepped in a tight circle around Pallin, weapons raised. "Set a trap in front of each of us," Garrus said to Benaka.

Benaka took a deep breath, and her joints glowed, but Garrus couldn't see any other indicator that something happened.

"Done," she said.

"Okay. When he triggers the trap, grab him—do not shoot him, understood?"

They all nodded in assent, and slowly lowered their weapons. The plan was far from foolproof. If Lutis had a weapon of his own...

"He can't use a weapon while he's invisible, right?" Drineax whispered. "I mean, if he picks a gun up, the gun won't go invisible with the rest of him, will it? I don't know how that all works."

"Shut up," Garrus said.

"Obviously not everything he touches goes invisible, or bits of the floor would disappear when he stepped on it, but then that raises the question of his clothes..."

Before Garrus could stomp on Drineax's foot to shut him up, the air directly in front of Caelon crackled with biotic energy.

"Now!"

Caelon stumbled forward as he grabbed the air in a wide hugging motion. The trap burst from him, and he struggled with his arms outstretched. "I—I got him! I got—"

His face suddenly jerked, and he fell back with an "oof." Everyone moved at once, piling onto the spot in front of him, reaching at air.

Garrus' hand landed on—something (an arm?), and he quickly reached with his other hand to grab more of Lutis while he could. He heard Lutis snarl in front of him, which was a mistake; now Garrus knew exactly where Lutis' head was.

Got you. Still gripping whatever part of Lutis that he held in one hand, Garrus threw a punch as hard as he could in the direction of the snarl. His fist made contact. He punched again. And again. A tooth fragment materialized midair and bounced off the ground. Finally, Garrus felt the arm he held go limp, and Lutis materialized, unconscious. Garrus let go of his arm and he crumpled to the ground.

"This time, I'm cuffing him."

Solana

The orange light above her eventually split into two. Behind the jets of flame she could make out a pair of turian legs.

"Solana!" Lantar's voice called. Was it really him?

"I'm—"

A sudden flash of bright red behind her made her turn, narrowly missing the full force of Regent's attack. It managed to catch her right side, and she spun in the dark. She looked for the jetpack to reorient herself.

A thud somewhere nearby. A familiar-sounding grunt. Lantar had landed. And he was as stuck as she was.

"Where are you?" He called out.

"Over here!"

"Where's 'here'?"

She charged her biotics in her joints, and the area immediately around her lit with blue light.

"Oh. Where's—"

Regent shrieked, a sound like metal scraping against metal, amplified by the darkness surrounding them.

"We need more light," Lantar said. "We can't fight him in the dark. Sol? Any ideas?"

The hopelessness of the situation closed in on her again. Even if Lantar was real—he seemed real—even if he was, what could he do? What could she?

"Sol!"

A bright red flash in her periphery, a burning sword swiping down on Lantar. Too close, too fast to block. He raised her arms in front of him—it was all he could do.

She focused all of her energy, all of her willpower, all of everything that made her her into her hands. Time slowed down, and, in the haze, she saw the sword slowly complete its downward arc, the light strobing behind it in a fierce tail that lit Regent's hideous face. She spun, pushing Lantar aside.

And she caught the blade.

Even through her armor and biotics, she immediately felt the searing heat of the blade threaten to scald the plating off her hands; she smelled smoke from burning metal and polymer. Regent, mere inches from her, its head suspended in the dark like something from a horror vid poster, shrieked its unnatural shriek, struggling to free itself from her grip. She looked it in the glowing pits that substituted for its eyes and screamed back. She unleashed the power in her hands, smoke trailing from her burning palms. There was a bright, burning flash, then she was thrown backwards into darkness. Regent shrieked, though she doubted it felt pain—more likely it was surprised and enraged at its sword being destroyed.

The thing's noises raised in pitch, getting louder and louder. Solana held her ears with her arms; her palms hurt too much.

The darkness was penetrated by a crimson light emanating from Regent's body; its eyes blazed in an otherworldly rage, and its arm that had been holding the sword Solana destroyed sparked like a malfunctioning geth limb. It trained its eyes on her. She felt the malice of an entity millions of years old pierce her very spirit; had she believed in an afterlife, she would be certain that she would feel that malice even after she died. Perhaps she still might.

The thing that haunted her nightmares charged.

Her hands broken and useless, she could do nothing but lift her arms in a feeble block. No biotic power came to her; she had put everything into that last burst, and her hands rejected any attempt to summon even a trickle of power with a howl of agony.

Regent's body flared in a burning charge, and it moved faster than she could have believed, faster than she had ever seen any living thing move in her life. She closed her eyes.

It impacted with a crackling flare. She was thrown back by an explosion, rolling from the force, her hands threatening to black her out with every thud against the ground as she instinctively tried to steady herself. The darkness swiftly returned, and everything was horribly quiet, save for the metallic rumbling of the station as its metal foundations groaned in protest. The explosion knocked her back, but she hadn't been the center of the thing's impact.

"Lantar?"

She heard him gasp from about ten feet away. There was a liquid rattling sound she recognized as his attempts at breathing.

The pain in her hands suddenly minuscule, she crawled toward the sound. Regent hadn't hit her with his charge. But it had hit something.

"Lantar?!"

He made no response. His breaths were short, labored, and gurgling. There had to be blood in his throat. She followed the horrifying sound until she bumped into a shaking mass on the floor. She felt along his body, identifying his arms and legs, then trailing up to his face. She found his side and reached for where she thought his hand might be. She grasped something wet, and he groaned beneath her. She ignored him and the pain in her hands and pulled him to the side.

Light. She needed light. She activated her omni-tool. The soft orange light illuminated its immediate vicinity, less than two feet around, but it was enough.

Lantar had taken the impact squarely from the front, pivoting his left side, presumably to hold up a tech shield against Regent's charge. As his left side took the brunt of the impact, it was the left side that had sustained the most injuries: his armor had been obliterated, metal shards embedded into his natural carapace and in his skin all the way along his side and down his legs. His left mandible had been reduced to a bloody stub connected by burnt, exposed sinew. And his left arm ended about eight inches too short, fragments of muscle, bone, and viscera on the ground. As she rolled him onto his side, he coughed up blood that had pooled in his mouth and throat. His body shook violently, and he muttered incomprehensibly into the floor, under a profound state of shock even as his body fought to remain alive.

She pushed away her sense of panic and entered a neutral, professional state nursed by her years of basic training. She crossed her legs, lifted the stump of Lantar's arm and propped his head in her lap, aiming the arm upwards to slow the flow of blood however she could. She didn't have the materials for tourniquet. She administered a slight amount of medi-gel directly into Lantar's bloodstream, hoping to ease the shock, but she didn't give him much; if he passed out, there was no guarantee he'd wake up. She needed help. She couldn't treat this even if she knew how. Her injured fingers refused to move correctly, making typing difficult. She called the first number that came to her mind.

"Answer," she whispered, surprised at the weakness of her own voice. "Please. Please."

Shepard

The Kodiak shuttle was just as cramped and uncomfortable as Shepard remembered. He flew the shuttle alone toward Regent. The Kodiak had a much smaller engine than the Normandy but was capable of limited faster-than-light jumps when necessary, allowing him to close with Regent on two fronts in a pincer. Before long, both ships had intercepted the Reaper's path to the Relay.

Shepard flipped a switch and opened a line of communication to the Normandy. "You ready?" He asked.

"For what?" Vega said.

Shepard gunned it, speeding straight for Regent. He activated the shuttle's electronic masking, which would hopefully blind the Reaper to his presence until he got close. He ran a check on the mass accelerator cannons, but the shuttle wasn't equipped with the kind of firepower needed to take down a Harbinger-class Reaper. He had to rely on speed, stealth, and a whole hell of a lot of luck to pull his plan off. There was a reason he went alone.

"Shepard, what the hell are you—oh! Oooh! You crazy bastard! Karam, get the—"

Shepard smiled as Vega continued barking orders. The Normandy's electronic signature vanished from the shuttle's sensors as they activated their own masking technology. The Reaper wouldn't be able to see them at all until they wanted it to.

The Reaper was within sight, about half the distance from the Earth to its moon, and getting closer. The glaring light of the supermassive black hole, incomprehensibly huge even thought it was still millions of light years away, distorted the Reaper's image as light was pulled into its accretion disk. When he was close enough to make out the individual "legs" on the Reaper's body, he unmasked the shuttle and fired his cannons.

The shots glanced off the Reaper's shield with barely a blip.

Shepard waited, hanging suspended in space, as the Reaper drew closer. The part that corresponded most with Regent's "head" glowed a menacing red hue.

"Okay," Shepard breathed.

A beam fired directly toward him just as he weaved the shuttle. He fired his cannons again, this time at the Reaper's face, but the shots just glanced off its shield again.

"YOU CANNOT HURT ME."

"No, but I can annoy you." He fired again, then he began randomly firing the Kodiak's electronic countermeasures, throwing everything at the Reaper to see what might stick. The Reaper's shields flickered at the assault, but nothing stuck. Nothing was meant to.

The Reaper's laser fired again, launching a wide arc straight at Shepard. He bobbed and weaved, but the laser grazed against his shield, sending him tumbling in mid-space. The console flashed a warning at him. He stabilized the shuttle and banked away from the Reaper's firing range. He had already died once from a laser blast in space; he didn't intend to repeat that experience if he could help it.

Regent kept making its flight toward the Relay, firing at Shepard but not stopping its advance. He had no idea if his plan was working or not, but he couldn't do anything else. So he chased, the Normandy close behind.

They had traveled only a few miles of space before Regent suddenly stopped. Its "legs" jerked in wild, sudden movements, like it was having some kind of malfunction. Finally, it reared back like a spider threatening to pounce on a larger predator, facing the direction of the Omega-4 Relay. Shepard saw the Normandy wisely slow its pursuit, but it used the opportunity to reduce the distance between it and the Reaper.

"What are you doing now?" Shepard muttered.

The part that corresponded most with Regent's "head" glowed a menacing red hue, the same color as the Relay. A beam fired directly toward the Omega-4 Relay and impacted with an immense burst of light. When the beam died out, Regent hung suspended, all of its light gone, as though dead.

The intercom buzzed. "Shepard," Vega began, "what—"

"I'm as lost as you. Change of plans; I'm coming back to the Normandy."

He kept an eye on the Relay, watching for any sign of problems. The gyroscopic rings encircling its core kept up their constant pace.

Then they sped up.

"New problem, Shepard," Vega said in a panicky voice, "whatever it did to the Relay has our energy readings off the charts. I think it's about to blow!"

In a last, desperate attempt, the Reaper had used its final moments to destroy the Relay.

Their only way home.

"Shit!"

He gunned the engine, willing the shuttle to move faster than its small engines could take it. "Don't wait for me, Vega; get through the Relay."

"That's not—"

"I'd prefer one person to be trapped here than the entire crew; now go!"

He closed the line to stop further argument. As he sped toward the Relay, the Normandy's thruster lit up and he watched the much faster ship make the jump. The Relay's rings spun faster with each passing second, and the Relay's core sparked terrifying flashes of dark energy in its death throes. Time seemed to slow down as the Kodiak sped its way through space. An alarm went off signaling the overheating engines.

"Come on..."

The Relay's core unleashed a corona that shook the ship in a cosmic blast. The gyroscopic rings broke apart and began to distend away from the Relay in its last desperate gasp for energy. Shepard watched this happen in slow motion like a ghostly spectator.

He reached the light. He felt a wave of heat crash through the ship.

He thought of Garrus.

Garrus

They still had no sign of Solana. The computer continued its shrieking alert as Caelon tried to decipher its ancient alien language enough to stop it.

When Garrus' omni-tool lit up and he saw Solana's number, he breathed a shaky sigh of relief. "Sol. Thank goodness you're—"

"Help me." Her voice shook and he could hear her wheezing. Hyperventilating. "His arm, and my hands won't, there's too much blood, help me, please."

"Sol—"

"Help me!"

His cop-trained crisis response instincts kicked in. "I will, Sol, I promise, but you need to stay out of shock. Deep, even breaths. Send up a signal so I know where you are."

"Okay. Okay. I just have my gun."

"That's fine. Fire it upward."

He looked over the edge. He spotted the flash and noted its position. It wasn't as far down as he expected, but it would still be a painful fall—and a difficult climb back up. He turned to Drineax. "Can that jetpack lift two people?"

He shrugged. "Maybe? You'd have to really push it, but it could work."

"Sol, Sidonis jumped down there with the jetpack. Is it still there?"

"I don't—let me see. Yes, yes, it's here. I don't know how to use this..."

Garrus pointed to Drineax. "Give her directions. Benaka, come here. I have an idea."

While Drineax relayed instructions to Solana, Garrus and Benaka approached the edge of the balcony.

"Okay, Sol. Can you lift Sidonis?"

"It's hard, but yes."

"Good. Can you make a singularity?"

"I...no, not with my hands like this. I can barely move my fingers."

"That's fine. Use the jetpack and hover up—as quick as you can, but try to remain steady."

Down below, a small yellow light sparked in the darkness. Garrus signaled to Benaka, who launched two singularities from her hands, one only a few feet from them and one farther down.

As the light grew closer, Solana's shape appeared, carrying Sidonis on her shoulders. She hovered to the first singularity, which pulled her in and let her drift. Benaka gestured with her hands. Solana drifted upward, instead of aimlessly flailing around. The jetpack started back up, and she hovered to the second singularity, which picked her up and gently deposited her on the ground in front of them. She dropped Sidonis as she landed, and Garrus saw the gruesome aftermath of their battle with Regent: his left midarm and hand were completely gone, the stub tied off with a haphazard tourniquet that let too much blood through, and his left mandible was half-obliterated; the other half would probably need to be removed. His entire side was jagged with pieces of scrap and armor embedded into his skin. Despite all of that, his breaths came in short, ragged gasps. He had perhaps twenty minutes, at most; more likely half that.

He wondered if he looked that bad, all those years ago.

Solana's hands were charred, the armor partially melted and fused to her palms and fingers. The fact she was even conscious was a testament to her strength—or her stubbornness. Pallin hobbled over to her and she collapsed by his side.

Garrus opened his omni-tool. "John? Come in. We need an emergency evac."

There was no response.

"Damn it. What are they doing up there?" He tried again, punching in a new number. "This is Garrus Vakarian hailing the SSV Anegawa. We have men down and need assistance."

A few moments passed, then the omni-tool lit up. "This is Sergio Petrov of the Anegawa. Relay us your position."

"That's...a good question." He looked around. "We're somewhere, um, in the bottom of Omega."

"That doesn't help very much."

Garrus cursed. "Caelon, any luck with the computer?"

"I've managed to find my way through the menus; it's a lot like playing a videogame in a foreign language, once you figure it out. And...here we go!" He pressed a button and the infernal alarm finally died down. "Now I should be able to send up a signal to—"

A new alarm went up, this one louder than before. A sequence of characters appeared ont he computer screen, rapidly changing. "Uh," Caelon said. "I didn't do it."

"Crap," Zaeed said. "I know a countdown when I see it. We need to get out of here!"

Garrus spoke into the omni-tool. "Petrov, you'll just have to circle the asteroid and find us. If you see a big explosion, that's where we were."

"What—"

Garrus hung up. He knelt down to pick Solana up, but Pallin took her first. That left Sidonis.

Garrus hesitated for a brief moment, then knelt down and picked Sidonis up in a fireman's lift. Sidonis groaned in pain as Garrus draped him over his shoulders—perhaps a little rougher than was necessary.

"What about him?" Zaeed said, pointing to Lutis. He was still cuffed and on the floor.

"Bring him."

But as they knelt down to pick him up, Lutis stirred. "No," he said.

"This isn't the time, kid," Zaeed said. Lutis shook his head.

"Regent's dead, Lutis," Benaka said gently. "It's over."

Tears ran down his face. "You don't understand. Even dead gods dream. I can still hear it. I'll always hear it. That, and Vellum...I can't...I don't want to go. Please."

Garrus met Lutis' eyes. He saw an inner terror that he deeply understood. To never be able to trust your own thoughts again, to never have even the slightest reprieve. He would have begged to be left behind if things were reversed.

"You'll be honored, Lutis, I promise. Let's go," he said to the others.

"But—" Caelon objected.

"Go!" Lutis said.

They ran then, leaving Lutis behind.

Solana

Her father carried her as far as he could before handing her off to Benaka. The krogan took her with surprising gentleness as they barely missed a step.

"I'm not as young as I once was," Pallin breathed. "Also, your brother beat me up."

She tried to say something witty in return, but the agony in her hands was quickly returning, and she felt dizzy and exhausted. She craned her head over to Lantar. Garrus carried him draped over his shoulders, and he lost a little blood each time he jostled. The only sign he was alive was the occasional groan from his mutilated mouth.

They ran aimlessly down a wide expanse. She figured that since it was large enough to hold a ship, maybe it would lead to a ship—at least, she assumed that was the idea Garrus had. Even though they were running for their lives, she felt too exhausted to care anymore. And since she couldn't lift a finger to help or do anything else at this point, she could just relax and let the universe work itself out, with or without her input.

Garrus' omni-tool flashed. "We see an opening," Petrov said. "Is that you?"

"I don't know, just get down here!"

Petrov said something in a human language, then Garrus hung up and they stopped.

"Maybe that wasn't a countdown after all?" Drineax said. "Maybe we'll be oka—"

A loud rumbling echoed from where they came, like rolling thunder from a storm headed their way. Even from atop Benaka's shoulders, Solana could feel the ground shake.

"Or not," Drineax said quietly.

As the rumbling drew closer, they felt another shaking from the other end of the expanse. Lights from jet propulsion systems flickered into view moments before the rest of the Anegawa. The ship's airstair lift dropped. A crew member stood at the top, urgently waving them in.

They climbed up the steps. Solana saw the fire of the explosion building up, cascading down the way they came just as the stairs closed. The ship jerked and shuddered as it flew its way backward out of the hangar, knocking them over.

Finally, on the pleasantly cold, metal surface of the ship's floor, she blacked out.

Garrus

The med bay on the Anegawa wasn't large enough for them all. They took in Lantar and Solana first, and the rest had to wait outside with medi-gel packs.

The ship had managed to get away from the blast, everyone cheering at Petrov's impressive ability to fly the ship backward out of danger. Joker would be jealous. Garrus worried that the explosion would damage Omega's life support systems, but it wasn't large enough to penetrate the asteroid's metal interior.

He wondered why a chamber dedicated to preserving life would be rigged to explode. Perhaps whatever species built it knew that the Reapers could use it someday. Or maybe Caelon simply tripped a bad wire that Aldus set up as a last resort. He supposed he'd never know. That was fine with him.

His father's injuries settled into dark spots along his facial plates, making him look older than ever. His chest where Michael had burned the Archangel insignia healed nicely. He would get it removed as soon as he could. They sat right outside the med bay, looking at their reflections in the windows, which were fogged for privacy.

"Any word from Sh—from John?" Pallin asked.

Garrus shook his head. Petrov explained the situation to them while a medical assistant blotted their wounds. The damn fool really did go charging into the Omega-4 Relay, the entire galaxy ready to trap him there if things went south. He figured that was why he couldn't reach his omni-tool.

"We killed Aldus," Garrus said, "and Regent was connected to him, so Regent should have gone down too. That's what happened with Saren and Sovereign." But if that was the case, why were they still waiting for the Normandy to return? Was Regent's connection to Aldus different, somehow?

The med bay doors opened, and he and Pallin stood simultaneously to greet the doctor. Dark blue stains dotted her gown and gloves.

"Your sister will be all right," the asari said. "She'll need a lot of physical therapy, and it may be as much as a year or two before she regains full control of her hands, but she'll be okay. The other one, however, is in critical condition. We've stopped the bleeding and placed him in an induced coma to stop the shock, but we're not equipped to handle injuries as extensive as his. He needs a full hospital. I recommend hailing the nearest port as soon as possible if we want to stave off infection."

They nodded their thanks. Garrus looked into the med bay window. Two of the three beds were occupied; Solana slept soundly in hers, while Lantar hung on a thread, connected to several machines and drip bags, half his face covered in bandages.

"I still can't believe he was the one who..." he let the sentence hang in the air. "I don't want to leave yet."

Pallin put a hand on his shoulder. "John will be all right. We can't do anything for him from here anyway."

Garrus clenched a fist, but he couldn't argue with his logic. He relented. "Fine."

The Anegawa sped off, leaving Omega and its Relay behind.

The Normandy

The Normandy cascaded through space. Turbulence rocked the ship through the jump; the malfunctioning Relay couldn't send them straight through as usual, leaving all of its human and alien occupants united with a singular thought: please get us home.

As its pilot mitigated the damage to the best of his considerable ability, its commander sent as many signals through as he could to the scores of ships waiting on the other side. It wouldn't do for the ship to reach its destination only to collide with another ship at faster-than-lightspeed due to the Relay launching them off a few degrees. Maybe they'd hit Omega itself, but there was no way to move that.

The warping of the fabric of space around them slowed. The ship entered its post-jump drift, and finally, they could see what was in front of them. Thankfully, a few of the commander's frantic messages made it through; the galactic armada gave the Omega-4 Relay a wide berth and, with a little help from its artificial intelligence, the pilot brought them to a safe, if rather abrupt, stop. For the second time, the Normandy had crossed the threshold of the most dangerous Relay in the galaxy and returned in one piece.

Dozens off ships hailed it at once, with questions and celebratory congratulations. But there were no cheers on the Normandy just yet. Now that they were through, they all, each one, waited with bated breath for another arrival. Some of them prayed for the first time in their lives; others, including a young man with a penchant for politics, simply waited, fully confident that they would see the flash of a relatively tiny ship power through the gate any moment.

A galactic minute passed. The gyroscopic rings on the Omega-4 Relay slowed down as its core began to shrink. Unlike the Relay on the other side, this one didn't register a spike in energy readings or threaten the system with nova-style annihilation, instead slowly petering out like an old lightbulb; where the other went out with a bang, this one was ending with a whimper.

The red core that menaced millions of generations of starfarers shrank more and more until, finally, it blinked out forever. The rings that powered it continued their movement in the frictionless vacuum of space for a few moments until they collided with oneanother, shattering into millions of pieces of celestial shrapnel in a dramatic proof of Newton's First Law.

Still, the ship had not arrived.

They slowly released their breath, resigning to a future with one less hero in it. The commander began mentally rehearsing just what he'd have to say to a surviving spouse. He knew that "your husband died in service to a greater cause" wouldn't cut it here.

An ambassador who awoke from what felt like a surreal nightmare despaired at the loss of the one creature who seemed to understand.

A batarian sighed as a strange and unexpected sense of disappointment washed over him. He realized that he would miss the human.

As they prepared to leave, the Normandy's sensors picked up a faint signal from several thousand kilometers away. The Kodiak shuttle was much smaller than the Normandy, with a much less skilled pilot, so its drift was of a much greater distance—and its late arrival to the Relay meant its trajectory was thrown off quite a bit. The signal cleared as the object drew closer.

As one, the crew of the Normandy erupted in cheers.

Garrus

Back in a hospital. It seemed every road he took eventually led to one. Through the window he watched Solana sit next to Sidonis' bed, reading a book that she delicately balanced in both hands. Sidonis lay back, his prosthetic mandible relaxed contentedly. Unable to completely reconstruct his face, he was left with cybernetic pieces stitching him together in a form more grotesque than his own. The geth arm that twitched slightly by his side completed the look. A few decades and some finely sharpened talons and Sidonis would look a lot like Saren.

Solana got up, stretched her arms, and leaned over to gently place her forehead against his. They remained that way for a second before she left.

She would fall in love with him. Even Wrex would have been preferable.

"You can come in, you know," she said. "His speech is getting better, though he still drools a lot on the left side."

Garrus straightened. "I don't think so."

"Look, I know he hurt you, but..."

"It's not me he hurt, Sol. That's the problem."

She nodded. "Even so, I think he's been through enough, don't you?"

"I don't think anything will be enough. I don't know."

"Well, you won't find out until you step on that side of the glass." She rubbed her hands together.

"Still hurt?"

"They always hurt. But it's slowly getting better." She sighed. "The dreams haven't, though. I keep going through everything, trying to figure out what might have happened if I had just chosen differently at this or that point. I know it's pointless, but I can't help it."

Garrus nodded. "John told me the same thing when we were in private way back when."

"How does he deal with it?"

"As far as I can tell? He knows he made the best choice he could with the information he had and deals with the consequences the same way. That's probably the best anyone can do. He's had to make some really hard decisions in his time."

"Maybe I'll talk to him later."

"Yes...and maybe I'll go talk to Sidonis." He looked at his sister. "You did a great thing on Omega, you know."

"We all did. That reminds me, Primarch Victus says Lutis has been given a posthumous medal of community heroism after our commendation."

"That's good. He deserved it while he was alive."

"...I've also been enlisted in the Cabals."

Garrus stepped back. "Are you serious? After everything you've done, they still won't let go of their idiotic, bigoted, self-entitled—"

"Garrus. It's okay. It's not like they're gonna put me on any assignments until my hands are healed anyway."

"But still..."

"Besides, I think I can make the most change there. Once they make Dad the new Councilor, they'll have a hard time not listening to me, don't you think?"

Garrus narrowed his eyes at her. She smiled.

"You're devious," he said.

"I picked up a few tricks from my well-traveled brother." She gestured to Sidonis. "Now go in there and make it less awkward for all of us. I need something from the vending machine."

She left down the hall, leaving Garrus at the window. He took a deep breath, and as he opened the door he thought about his sister's immense bravery.

Sidonis turned his head as Garrus walked in. He didn't seem afraid as before, though his eyes never wavered from Garrus' for a moment. Garrus closed the door behind him.

"Here to kill me?" Sidonis asked.

"Haven't decided yet."

"Mm. Well, whatever you do, it can't be worse than this." He lifted his new arm, flexed its fingers. They made a slight clack against the palm. "The fucker itches constantly. Same with the mandible. But I can't scratch because, you know, metal. I keep trying to scratch at it in my sleep." He held up his other hand, showing off the broken talons.

Garrus pulled up the chair Solana had used and sat down. "Chewing gum might help with the scratching." He pointed at his own scarred face. "Distracts from the itching a little bit. As for doing it in your sleep...handcuffs. Can't help you with the arm, though. I hear it goes away eventually."

"Thanks."

They sat together in silence for a long moment. "Solana said you carried me out of there."

Garrus nodded.

"Thank you for that, too, then."

Garrus shrugged. "It was a high-stress situation. Wasn't thinking clearly. Won't happen again."

Sidonis chuckled at that, then winced. "Ah, don't make me laugh."

"Do you love Solana?"

The question came out unexpectedly, but he had to ask it. He had many such questions. Sidonis' features softened. "We barely know eachother."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"I...she makes me feel a way I hadn't felt for a long time. I didn't think I could truly care about anything anymore, like all my emotions were just gone and I could only act like I could feel things. But with her...I feel afraid when she's in danger. I feel sad when her hands hurt. I feel happy when she's just around, and I feel safe when she's nearby. It's like she makes me a person again. So...yes, I believe so."

Garrus nodded slowly, closing his eyes. There was a time he could have said the same thing about Shepard. He glanced to the window, where Solana stood watching. "Then...I guess we should talk."

Shepard

Nine pairs of eyes looked down on him while the rest of the galaxy watched through the television.

"Shepard," Sparatus said from his perch at the center, "this Council recognizes your heroism-yet again-in stopping the Reaper threat. We find ourselves repeatedly owing your our lives and our civilizations. You have the sincerest thanks of all of the species we represent."

Shepard nodded. "Thank you, Councilor. However, there is something else we should discuss."

The Councilors shifted nervously in their spots. This wasn't in their pre-approved programming. Oh, yes. Commander Shepard has something to say, and you're not gonna like it.

"The raloi have petitioned this Council for membership as an associate race. They have been granted this membership once before, before the Reaper attack. They have been severely castigated for breaking Council ties during the War, and have been labeled cowards by many. I, however, have seen firsthand that the raloi are just as capable of bravery and honor and, yes, fear as much as any other race represented here today. Ambassador Ari'Ka personally saved my life from an attempted assassination, and what's more, he volunteered, with no guarantee of return, to make the trek across the Omega-4 Relay to fight the last remaining Reaper by my side."

He decided to leave out the part where Ari'Ka fell susceptible to Reaper indoctrination. The Councilors were all murmuring amongst themselves now. Sparatus stood perfectly still like an angry statue.

"The Council gave humans a chance, once, and I think our race has done well for itself since then. I request that the Council give the same chance to the raloi as an associate race."

Sparatus' eyes darted to the cameras. The other Councilors looked nervously to him for a sign of how to react.

"Your...request...is touching, Commander. The Council will take it into thoughtful consideration."

Shepard smiled, nodded, and left the Council chambers. Garrus met him right outside, the whole video playing on his omni-tool.

"How'd I do?"

Garrus grabbed him and pulled him close for a deep, wet kiss. Others in the chamber stopped what they were doing to stare at them, but he didn't care. He loved showing his devotion to his husband.

When Garrus pulled away, he took a deep breath and sighed. "Seeing you show up the entire Council is always such a turn-on. Now..." Garrus leaned in and whispered some instructions. John's face turned redder and redder as he listened. He wasn't ashamed of his devotion to Garrus, but he was glad the onlookers couldn't hear what he was saying.

Gagged, handcuffed, and legs tied, he could only listen at his captor's footsteps slowly crossing the room. A sharp point touched his back at the base of his spine and dragged upwards. "I told you I'd make you pay for your insolence before," Garrus said.

Garrus pried his hands under John's stomach and rolled him over onto his back. He stared at Garrus as he climbed atop the bed, planting his knees on either side of John, his manhood unsheathed and looming above his stomach. Garrus maintained eye contact as his ass straddled John. The velvety skin between his cheeks sent ripples throughout John's body, and even with the restraints he tried to thrust upwards.

"You still want that? Hm?"

He nodded vigorously, moaning through the gag. Please.

Garrus leaned down, the weight of his full body engulfing over him, and he bit John on the neck. Gently. But hard enough to send the necessary signals through his brain reminding him of the inescapable fact of nature: he was prey. He lived and died only at the will of the creature above him, and every moment he continued to live was a moment he gave thanks for to Garrus.

Garrus wrapped his arms behind John's back. Talons dug into his shoulder blades and scratched a long, slow trail to his armpits. Tears welled up in his eyes. "Does that hurt?" Garrus asked. John nodded.

Garrus licked the spot where he bit before. "Good." He drew his tongue up to John's lips, leaving a trail of saliva down his chin. "I'm going to hurt you more before we're done." He moved to John's shoulder where he left his mark on the other body, the body John no longer had. He put his nose to his skin and John listened to him sniff.

"I'm going to take back what belongs to me, now. Are you ready?"

Yes. Do it. Please. Please!

Garrus gave him one more lick. His mouth closed on his prize.

His shoulder erupted in pain as Garrus bit down, hard, his carnivorous teeth sinking into meat. He screamed into his gag. Garrus gripped him tight and pulled him close, growling over his conquest. John's body took the pain of being claimed and somehow converted it into ecstasy. Nothing mattered anymore but pleasing his owner. He belonged to Garrus.

Garrus finally let go, his teeth slipping out of John's skin as he groaned. He could smell his own blood. But instead of reaching for the first aid kit, Garrus lifted off of John and transferred to his other shoulder.

Then he bit him again.

John arched his back as much as he could, half fighting, half embracing the bite. Garrus pushed down on him and he was helpless against the weight of the heavier male. He collapsed, succumbing fully before Garrus finally let go. John sank onto the bed, which was a mistake, as his bound legs suddenly cramped up. He tried to shift position, but it was no use.

Garrus pulled the gag out of John's mouth and started to kiss him, plunging his tongue as deep as it would go. But the cramp crept its way up John's thighs and he couldn't handle it anymore.

"Thorian," he said.

Garrus' demeanor instantly switched from one of dominating indifference to loving concern. "Too much?" He asked.

"No—ahh! Cramp. Legs. Legs!"

"Oh." Garrus climbed off him and undid the binds on his legs. John spread them apart and massaged his thighs until the cramp subsided.

"Sorry," he said at last. "Some pains just aren't sexy."

"That's all right. We should pause anyway." Garrus had the first aid kit and was already putting disinfectant on gauze pads. "I'm sorry if I get carried away. You just...really wake the sadist in me."

"No, believe me, I love it." He hissed when Garrus blotted at the bite marks. He looked at the one on his other shoulder and could already see the bruises forming. "Well, not this part, I admit, but it's so worth it."

"That's good." He pressed the pad down and began wrapping a bandage around the shoulder. "Because I realized I want to give you more."

"Mmm. Where?"

"Everywhere. Your arms. Your chest. Your thighs. Your ass. I don't want there to be a single inch of you that I don't own." He paused his first aid to plant a gentle turian kiss on John's cheek.

"There isn't, Garrus. There never was."

"Mmm. But we have the rest of our lives for that. Right now, I'll settle for these." He moved over to the other shoulder and began to patch that up too. "I want a new rule."

"What?"

"You may never separate from me again. If something comes up that threatens the galaxy, we will face it together all the way—or not at all." He winked. "I also want you to wear a collar."

John grinned. "The first part is very much acceptable to me, hon. The second...I may need some persuading."

Garrus purred and put away the first aid kit. They lay together for a long while, kissing and nuzzling. Garrus' hand explored John's body, pulled at his ass, and scratched his back. John massaged the rim of Garrus' sheath, sliding his penis between his fingers. Before long, they were back at it, and they continued well into the night.

Garrus

Later, when they were both spent and just enjoying eachother, John kissed his husband on the cheek. "Garrus."

"Hmm?" The turian said sleepily, his eyes closed.

"I will never be able to give you kids."

Garrus' eyes popped open at that. "We don't have to talk about it right now."

"No, we do. We should have talked about it years ago. I decided a long time ago that I don't want kids. I can't handle that kind of responsibility, Garrus."

Garrus raised up with a deep sigh. "You've saved trillions of lives, by my count at least three times. Raising a kid can't be that much harder."

"That's a different kind of responsibility. I'm prepared to handle being a soldier, but a father is something much, much different. And then we have to consider the species of the kid. I wouldn't know the first thing about raising a turian, but I wouldn't know the first thing about raising a human, either. I would try to learn on my feet and, yeah, maybe I could, but I know what kind of father I'd be, Garrus: distant, awkward, unemotional. Kids should be wanted by both of their parents."

Garrus shook his head and sighed. "Honestly, I've been thinking about it. Maybe I was more attached to the idea of having kids than to the actual thing. I like kids, and I think I could be a good father, but...I think about how I was to my dad, and, well, let's just say I wouldn't handle it as well as he did. It's just that, I've always wanted to have a family, and now thinking about not going that route seems...hard."

They looked at eachother for a moment. John laid back down, and Garrus joined him. They both looked up at the ceiling of their hotel room.

"So, what are we gonna do?" John finally asked.

Garrus realized he was faced with a choice, but as he thought about how worried he felt when John was on the other side of the Relay, or how relieved he was when he finally got the message that he had arrived safely, he knew it was no choice at all. It did hurt—deciding not to have kids after years of fantasizing about a family felt like something was being taken from him. But he knew John was right. And he had to make the best decision he could in his situation.

He grabbed John's hand, massaged the fingers with his thumb. "All right," he said. "You win."

John's thumb massaged back. "But you know, I'm not completely opposed to having a pet."

They looked at eachother then and laughed. It was the best laugh either of them had in years.

One year later

Solana

Omega hadn't changed much. The streets were still the same rusty red, the smell was still revolting, the shops still served the same suspicious items that passed for "food." But through the streets the people walked differently; there was a sort of hopeful confidence in the air, like for the first time in a very long time, the denizens of Omega were finally acknowledging that maybe things would be all right after all.

She sat in what used to be the Afterlife. The building had been converted into a makeshift embassy. Although the Council had tried to sweep up Omega in the aftermath of Archangel's rebellion, they quickly found that someone else beat them to the punch. So instead of open conflict, they settled for a foothold, perhaps hoping to one day open the door wide and slip in unnoticed. Several guards watched her uneasily as she placed her two-and-a-half-foot-long serrated knife on the table. Normally that wouldn't be allowed, but being a Councilor's daughter did have some benefits, even here.

A turian in full armor sat next to her. "I hear you have business with Archangel," he said menacingly.

She snickered. "Do you just go around like that everywhere now? Does the scary growly voice actually work?"

The other turian relaxed. "It works on most people." Drineax leaned back and took off his helmet. "It's amazing what you can get away with when you're as charming as me."

"I bet the mystery and Archangel reputation for unpredictability helps too."

"Mmm, no, I think it's mostly the charm."

She gestured around the table. "I like what you've done with the place. Nightclubs were always more Garrus' scene."

"This? Pfft. You should see the old Archangel hideout. Now, there's an improvement, let me tell you. It's also where all the real deals go down."

"I'm surprised the mercenary groups just let you have it."

"After 'I' took down their leaders and killed Aria, they were all too willing to unite under a new banner somewhere far, far away from here. Combine that with people's enthusiasm for a new Supreme Overlord and it was just a matter of organization. It helps that nobody knew who the old Archangel was, of course; now nobody can call me a fraud!"

"And the Council?"

"Is great for supplies and security. Not everyone's happy with them here, but I've made it clear to them—and the Council—that they can't have Omega while I'm around. No, this is my baby, now. Well, mine and the Shadow Broker's. So what brings the princess to the dark part of the woods? You're not looking for another adventure, are you?"

She smiled. "No. Actually, I'm here to bring you this." She took the knife in her hands and gave it to him. She pointed at the signature on the side of the blade's sheath. To Drineax. Stay the hell away from my sister. – Garrus Vakarian.

Drineax reared his head back and laughed so hard that several people stopped what they were doing to look at him. He wiped tears from his eyes when he was done. "You convinced him to sign it?"

"I told him I'd date you if he didn't."

Drineax snorted. "So I guess things aren't working out with that husband of yours?"

"No, Lantar and I are doing just fine, actually. Sorry to disappoint you."

"Ah, well, a man can dream." He winked. "And if you two ever want a threesome, you know where to find me." He looked down at the knife. "You know," he said somberly, "it's one thing when you meet your heroes and they're jerks, but it's something else when you meet your heroes and they shoot you in the foot. Nah." He held up a finger and fished around his pockets for a moment, eventually producing a pen. "I think I have a new hero now." He held the pen and knife toward Solana with a smile.

She laughed, taking the knife and pen in her hands and wrote on the other side of the sheath.

To Drineax. Don't freak out. – Solana Vakarian.

Garrus

John had told him where to land, which was good, because finding the Shadow Broker's hideout was impossible otherwise. The platform took his shuttle down deep below the planet's surface, where Liara and Aethyta waited for him.

He'd had a whole year to think about what he was going to say.

Liara hugged him when he approached. He patted her back in return. "It's good to see you, Garrus. I've missed you."

"It's...good to see you too, Liara." He nodded to Aethyta. "Matriarch."

"Vakarian. I hope you're not here for a bodyswap too."

He chuckled, shook his head. "No, thankfully. Unless I need one?" He looked at Liara, half-jokingly. She shook her head and he sighed in relief. "Then no. I actually wanted to thank you, first of all, for saving him."

Liara nodded. "I know I lied to you both, and I'm sorry for that. I thought it was best—"

"Garrus held up a hand. "Ever since you became Shadow Broker, you changed. A lot. And you've helped us, too, probably in more ways than I suspect. But I also came here because I want you to promise me you'll never lie to us again. Even if he thinks it's for the best, John...doesn't deserve that."

She nodded. "That's fair."

"I also had a question." Garrus stepped aside, looking at the monitors that seemed to hold information on everyone in the galaxy. "I've been thinking about what happened last year, with Archangel. Something didn't add up."

"Oh?"

"Yes, he was possessed by the Reaper, and got his knowledge of Omega through that. But how did a nameless mercenary somehow outsmart the three largest mercenary factions in the Milky Way while also managing to kill two of its leaders? That would have required an immense amount of information, money, clout. All things I doubt an artificial intelligence like a Reaper would understand. It's been a while since I was at C-Sec, but I can still investigate a case, Liara." He looked her in the eyes. "Aria was onto you, wasn't she? So you propped up Aldus, not knowing about Regent, and set him up to take over Omega by giving him the idea for Archangel."

Her eyes went wide. Inwardly, Garrus smiled. It wasn't every day someone sniffed out the Shadow Broker.

"I didn't mean for—"

He held up a hand. "I know. I'm not here to judge you for it. It took me a long time to come to peace with it, though. But I have to ask: are you still pulling the strings on Omega, or are you letting the puppets dance by themselves?"

Her eyes gave him his answer. He shook his head. "I guess the galaxy only has one rule, huh?"

He bid farewell and returned to his ship, all too happy to see the back of this depressing place.

Shepard

Their home on Earth was situated on a private island, a particularly valuable commodity considering the size of the planet's population. There was a hangar large enough for a ship to dock, as well as a couple of smaller shuttles to carry them offworld whenever they desired to get away to a new scene.

But today, a ship came from offworld to visit them. It was a very special day. Garrus stood nervously watching the sky, while Mordin, their pet varren, bounced around their legs, as though feeding off the residual energy in the air.

The small transport shuttle docked, and the hatches opened up to reveal their family inside.

Pallin, ever the leader, stepped out first. His shirt was the regal formalwear expected of a Councilor. He embraced Garrus and shook John's hand.

Next was Lantar, who took on the name "Vakarian" after marrying Solana. His prosthetics had healed up nicely and now it was hard to picture him without them. He gave them a short nod and waited at the end of the hangar for Solana, who pushed Xenafor on a wheelchair.

It was her first time out of a hospital bed in years.

"You're looking better every day, Mom," Lantar said.

John held Garrus' hand and allowed him to clinch it tightly. Try as he might, he still wasn't used to having Lantar as a relative. Perhaps he never would be. But he tried.

"How do you feel?" John asked.

The VI that followed her like a ghost popped to life. "Tired, mostly. The treatments with Miranda are intense. But it is worth it to be here with you all. I like your necklace, John."

Feeling his skin turn red, he pulled his shirt up to hide the collar. Garrus eyed him with a sly grin.

They went inside and settled together around the vast living room, which was large enough to hold a small ship.

"You were right, John," Pallin said. "That Winters boy is a natural diplomat. He actually managed to arrange a meeting between the salarian rebels and the Dalatrass. With luck, we might approach a peace deal within the year." He cleared his throat. "Uh, none of that is to leave this room, understand. Confidential and all."

"I'm glad he could be of use to you, Councilor," John said, grinning.

Pallin grunted. "Don't tease me, boy. I can have your Spectre status revoked right here." They all chuckled at that.

"And Sol, how has the Cabal integration effort going?"

"Slowly," she said, sighing. "There's a lot of resistance in some circles, and there've even been a few riots. But Primarch Victus has been very supportive of us so far." She looked at Pallin. "I may have said something about getting some very important Council funds reduced to get him on board, but since then, not a peep of protest."

Pallin put his head in his hand. "You're supposed to be the good one."

"Anyway," she went on, "It's an uphill battle, but most social fights are, especially among turians. We'll get there."

"Humans aren't much better on that front," John said.

Mordin busted into the room, meeting the laps of each person. Eventually, he hopped onto Xenafor's lap and plopped his head down.

"No, Mordin!" Garrus said. "Bad!"

"It is okay," Xenafor said. "He can stay there as long as he does not pee on me."

John looked at his mother-in-law more closely. Her features seemed fuller, her eyes clearer. Most of all, he saw movements—small twitches, mostly, barely noticeable on anyone else, but there was a tiny flutter in the skin around her eyes, and a finger moved ever-so-slightly on occasion. The treatment was slow, but it was working.

Lantar cleared his throat. "Um. So. There's something that I guess you should know." He looked warily at Garrus, scooted slightly farther away. "We—me and Solana, I mean—well, we, uh."

"Spit it out, son," Pallin said.

"What he's saying is," Solana said, moving her hand to her stomach. She looked at her mother in the eyes. "You're gonna be a grandmother soon."

Pallin's jaw opened up, and Shepard managed to catch a picture on his omni-tool. He looked at Garrus, and, to the relief of Lantar, he beamed with joy at his sister. But when they all looked at Xenafor, they went quiet as her eyes teared up. Without a word, her mandibles slowly, as though fighting for each millimeter, parted from her jaw, until her face finally settled into a smile.

The end