There was more than one reason getting shot was a bad idea. First and foremost was that is hurt. Very much so. Second down the list was that it could be fatal, which was quite unhealthy.

Third was his least favorite; being told how long it would take to heal.

"Common, doc. Give me a tiny break?" he begged weakly. He could not spend two weeks stuck ship-side; it just wasn't possible, wasn't reasonable, wasn't constitutional! He shot Chakwas the most puppy-ish look a turian could manage. Which was hard, because he was one of those people who was extremely, unhelpfully resistant to pain killers. "Please? I'll go crazy in here!"

"If you were so afraid of going crazy, you should have ducked." Tali joked shakily from beside him. She poked him in the shoulder. "No more gut shots, please."

"Glad to hear my engineering pal has so much faith in me." he grumbled. "What exactly do you expect me to do for two weeks?"

"Rest, relax, and no building ridiculous guns while you're in bed." Chakwas told him. "If you need a way to entertain yourself, there are plenty of vids on this ship to occupy yourself with."

On the one talon, an opportunity to watch all those western flicks Shepard kept bugging him to watch. On the other talon... LAME! He could already feel the restlessness settling in, right alongside the sharp pains that occasionally sharpened, and threatened to take his breath away.

"I'll come and visit you." Tali assured him. She'd been there when he came to. There was something odd about her these days, he'd noticed. He figured it might be some sort of quarian thing, but he couldn't help but worry, with rough times like these..."And what does she mean by 'ridiculous guns'?"

"Drawing specs for the Thanix while he was supposed to be recovering from a concussion." Chakwas betrayed before he could lead his friend off the scent.

"The best ideas came from the minds of the mad, dear doctor." he argued, tiredly. This conversation with shockingly taxing, and not just to his moral. Whatever sedatives Chakwas had loaded him up on seemed to be working at least.

"Keelah..." Tali whispered with a shake of her head. "Let's just... no Thanix work while you're resting, okay? I'll handle the essentials, you can fix what I break later."

"Tali, if you break the Thanix..." he left the implications open to interpretations. He'd been mortified enough after finding what the Alliance had done to his pride and joy, he would not tolerate another incident like that. He didn't know if he could take it if he spent two weeks on med leave, and spent another week fixing what someone did to his gun.

"Don't worry, I'll just make sure it's still running." she reassured him, patting his hand. It lingered there for a very long time, to the point he was certain she was still there as he started nodding off, exhausted by the conversation and the sedatives. He shut his eyes, figuring at least sleep, though mundane, would at least be an escape from the pain that made his gizzard roil. And as he dropped off into sleep, several words from their conversation replayed in his mind's eye.

Namely, 'ridiculous guns', 'Thanix', and 'don't do this-or-that'. The best way to assure someone did something forbidden was to forbid it.

Between his dreams and the drugs floating around his system, a truly maniacal idea was born.

It had been a little over a week, and he was feeling up for short forays onto the crew deck. He was still uneasy on his feet, and too much getting up and sitting down made his gut hurt, but it felt good to eat with the rest of the squad again(excluding Javik, who claimed they would be poisoned if he ate around them, which Garrus just thought was 'bull hockey', to use an Ashley term). Thus being said, he wasn't allowed to eat as much as he would have pleased; Chakwas had been very strict in establishing she didn't want any more stress on his system than need be. He'd managed to avoid any infections, which was a plus, considering the condition he'd been in.

All in all, everything was rotten and miserable. He did, indeed, have cabin fever at this point, and the idea that the team went down to fight Reapers every day while he was stuck safe and sound in the med bay was, quite frankly, upsetting and infuriating. What if something happened, and he could have stopped it if he'd been there? What if one of them got hurt, and he wasn't there to pull them out of the fire?

All the 'ifs' and 'maybes' were not to his liking. But, his drugged-out, impossible, entirely-forbidden and bad idea of a plan was coming into shape. And, sitting on the floor of the mostly empty crew deck, visible from the med bay window but obscured enough that Chakwas couldn't see what he was doing, Garrus had several illicit schematics laying open as he tinkered with several power cores. He wasn't legitimately sure this could possibly work, but anything to do with his hands was better than nothing.

"What are you doing now, turian?" the voice caught him by surprise, and he glanced up. Javik was looking down on him, all four eyes narrowed. For a few moments he wondered what had coaxed the prothean out of his hiding place in port cargo, before remembered what day of the week it was. Wednesday. They usually sparred on Wednesdays, sessions between them usually being more brutal than most fights on the mat(he swore, James kept bringing popcorn). It was done under the interests that Garrus was one of only two people on board who could present a legitimate challenge, and that, Garrus himself was curious about the prothean's fighting techniques; he'd long since learned to take advantage of the Normandy's multi-species tendancies.

He must be bored. A sparring session was an absolute 'no' in his current condition.

"Ballistic prose." he answered blandly, holding up a power core. "A repeat incident. True art. The creation of a bored madman. An insane idea that can't possible work. Take your pick."

"Do explain." the ancient warrior prompted. That was surprising. He must be really bored. Usually, he would have turned ant left at the attempt at humor.

"What I'm trying to do," he held up the core to the light, and fiddled with several wires very carefully, before picking up another core and teasing them together, "Is build something, in essence, like a... well, dumb as it sounds... a... 'handheld' Thanix."

Now that peaked Javik's interest very much. At least, he thought that was 'interested' might look like. Javik didn't have many expressions aside from 'neutral', 'condescending', or 'bloodthirsty rage'.

"A weapon like that would be... very useful in this war." the prothean pointed out.

"Well, yeah, I know that." the two cores connected resulting in an electric 'fizz' of sorts. He shook it near his ear, listening for anything that might be loose. "I'm really just doing this because I'm bored; not much to do in the med bay, 'cept get told you'll bust yourself open if you move too fast. Strictly speaking, I'm not allowed to build 'ridiculous guns' in the med bay. Which is why I'm out here. What Chakwas doesn't know, can't hurt her."

"War has a tendency to accelerate technological advancement." Javik told him. "It forces individuals to create new weapons to fight new enemies. If there is a possibility this... 'gun' could work, I suggest you continue to strive to complete it."

"Yeah, yeah." Garrus waved a hand nonchalantly. With the other hand, he was trying to slip a capacitor ring around the now-joined cores. "Nice speach; now shush. If I don't place this right, it'll blow the whole ship up."

The mortified expression on Javik's face said it all, even before he spoke. "What are you thinking!? Handling that in the mess hall!?"

Garrus looked at him... and smirked. "For the look on your face just now? Totally worth it."

Suddenly, his visor beeped.

"AW, CRAP! The warden's coming!" the human swear left his mouth at ballistic speed. Panicking, he gathered the cores, the rings, and the schematics into his arms, and staggered to his feet, the action sending a bolt of pain through his abdomen.

He shoved the entire contents of his mad creation into Javik's arms, the bewildered prothean had no choice but to grab hold of it. "There's a hidey hole under my desk in the main battery, stash it, lock it, and for the sake of all that's good and holy, DON'T LET THE GREEN CORE TOUCH THE BLUE ONES!"

With that, he took off for the med bay before Javik could read him, before Chakwas came in from the elevator(oh, how clever he was to have bugged her card with that tracking program), and as fast as his healing wounds would let him, all the while with barely contained hysterics. Because, there was no green core.

Of all the Normady crew members, Javik was the funnest to mess with... simply because he did the same thing to them. He'd made a terrible mistake in admitting he enjoyed baiting and teasing primitives. It was times like these, a human saying came to mind.

Mess with the bull, you'll get the horns.

Oddly enough, Javik continued to hover nearby whenever he was working on his illicit project. Soon, they found themselves working together to try to hash out the problems with such a small version of the Normady's main gun.

"Main problem here," Garrus said as he tried to assemble a miniaturized version of the Thanix core, "is that if you fire it, this thing'll bust and irradiate you. We don't need that."

"How is the problem countered in the larger version?" Javik asked as he absentmindedly spun a screwdriver around in the air with his biotics. His treasured rifle, one of few weapons he'd brought over from his cycle, lay in pieces, in neat order, on the table in front of them. The idea was that some of the mechanics of the energy-based weapon might provide a little insight as to how they might prevent a fatal explosion when firing the mini-thanix.

"If I tried to explain it with all the official terms, we'd be here for hours." Garrus assured him. "But lets just say, some of the materials I need are either A; illegal to purchase by a tiny turian gunny with a gut wound, B; have a molecular density so high you need to be a biotic with an illegal amp just to shape it-just think about expenses arming an entire fleet with these things, it's not pretty-or in this case, C; pretty much both those things. Along with a menagerie of other problems."

He sealed several wires expertly in the wall of the half-core, and then ran one talon along the inside of the bowl. "Typically, that super-dense stuff I mentioned would be lining the inside of this. It doesn't absorb molecules, that's important; you want that stuff to bounce around in there, or else the metal blend doesn't solidify right when you fire. And if that doesn't happen, well... you blow up. Spectacularly."

"Where would you typically find these supplies?" the prothean grunted.

"High-grade military caches. In the case of the main gun, Cerberus got their sticky hands on it and passed it on. Took Samara and Miranda weeks to get it shaped right. I'd need to sweet-talk the Primarch like I've never sweet-talked before." he clicked a compensator into place. "And don't even get me started on some of the other stuff."

"You could always lie." Javik suggested. "If you are desperate."

"I'd rather not get thrown in prison, thank you." Garrus snorted. "On the other talon, it's going to be an awkward conversation; 'Hey, Victus! I was wondering if I could borrow some high-grade alphite osmium for an experimental energy weapon! Oh, and while we're at it, can I pretty please have some uranium?'"

Javik made a snorting noise that Garrus dared to guess was a laugh he'd barely managed to put in a choke hold.

"Point is, he'll probably think I'm crazy." he connected the half core to the string of power cores and capacitor rings he'd built. They fit together perfectly, and when he turned up the power output on the cores, they all turned on, and the rings turned without incident. "I feel crazy. Do I look crazy to you?"

"All you primitives look like oblivious mad things."

He should back out. He really should back out. He should not have pried further, he should not have held interest, he should have dismissed it like he would any other antics of the primitives. Why, oh, why, had he let the words 'handheld Thanix' get to his head?

The main gun of the Normandy, built and maintained by the turian, was a reaper-killer, through and through, and it's design satisfied him; at least one thing was done right in this cycle. According to Garrus, the smaller version would 'pack the same punch' as the larger version. Oh, the thought alone of the damage that could do was... well, enticing, to say the least. He'd encouraged the bored primitive's idea simply because of that. That, and if left to his own devices, he'd likely abandon the project the moment he was allowed ground side again.

Such was his nature when he got bored, as Javik had learned. And he was, indeed, an oblivious mad thing. He still couldn't ascertain as to how someone with a near-prothean aim could fail to notice when a female was courting him(Javik had a feeling the quarian was reaching the limit of her patience), nor how he could be so perfectly immune to his own jabs at the turians as a species.

It wasn't some facade of calm, or patience... he literally had trouble realizing when Javik was insulting him. Perhaps insults worked differently in this cycle? He was overthinking this. And he was getting in too deep.

He sent the screwdriver spinning wildly as the new pulse of irritation flashed through him. He needed an outlet. He hadn't been ground-side in days, he had nobody worthy to spar with, since the Commander was out wrestling the comms for intelligence reports, and Garrus was still recovering from his injuries.

And here was what happened when he had no outlet; he started-and he had to suppress a shudder every time he realized it-getting close to the crew. He had a small amount of respect for the asari. The Vega human was gloriously fun to tease and bait, and rarely had enough mental power to do the same thing back. The quarian usually ignored him with a roll of her head, and the Williams woman usually responded to him with a snort-eye roll combo that looked ridiculous. The Commander, he respected simply because this was his ship; you never wanted to anger the captain of a ship, not when the crew outnumbered you so vastly. Some of the ideas he had were flawed, but somehow they always wound up working, in a way that made Javik start to think, perhaps, prothean logic didn't work anymore.

But it was a logic he clung to, stubbornly. He refused to think there was no place for it anymore. Unfortunately, it was the turian who had the nasty habit of pointing out when and where and how prothean logic wouldn't work, and sometimes, it made him want to throw the marksman out an airlock. Other times, his oblivious-but-noticing-everything nature surprised him, and that, combined with his skill and war smarts, perhaps made him the only member of the crew Javik actually liked. He was useful, as an instrument of destruction.

The idea of the mini-thanix proved that, if nothing else.

He should back out. He should stop this. He should just say it was a waste of his time, and leave the turian to his own devices. He did not need to interact with the crew, he did want to interact with the crew, and he certainly did not want or need to be close to them. To any of them. They were tools, for the destruction of the Reapers, nothing more. The ends justified the means. And he meant to see the Reapers destroyed, even if it meant watching the Normandy, and people on it, burn if he had to.

He wasn't sure where that thought came from. Perhaps because he cared so little. As it should be; this was not his crew, they weren't-

He locked down the thought. It was instinct. Never think about them. Never think about that planet. Never-

"You know, I'm going to need that thing later." the turian's drawling voice snapped him out of his racing thoughts. Blue eyes met two of his yellow ones calmly. "Preferably in a straight line, and not in a pretzel twist?"

He looked at the screwdriver; he'd unintentionally turned it into a messy, twisted mass. Well, his outlet was tangled now.

"Who's oblivious now, eh?" and there went one of those moments where he wanted to throw Garrus out an airlock. With a scowl on his face, Javik set himself to untangling the tool, and while he was doing so, he was hit by a sudden epiphany; he and Garrus actually had something in common at this point.

They were both excruciatingly bored.

"Freedom!" Garrus threw himself backward along the couch with gleeful abandon, in a fashion that, a week ago, would have mortified Chakwas. He couldn't stop the pleased rumble rising up his throat as he tossed himself back like a rag doll, finally given a clean bill of health. The action sent a slight twinge through his gut, but otherwise, no pain at all. Not like he'd been experiencing previously. Now he was free do do whatever he wanted; he could stuff his face, roughhouse with Shepard, maybe even hold his drink again.

Hitting the dirt ground-side was still in question for now, but at least he was free to do as he would on board ship. He could get back to work on the Thanix, make sure all his armor was in working order, clean his rifle...

"Better stop purring, scars, or I'll take a recording." James teased from the bar.

"I'm not purring." he protested. He twisted to lay flat on his stomach, head resting on the arm of the furniture, to look at him. In celebration of full mobility without pain, he was inclined to lay with all four limbs in akimbo order, making him look like a murder victim more than a relaxing turian. "I'm just a free man."

"Dude, you're totally purring. If only Tali were here." James countered. Garrus pulled his mandibles back in an odd look. What did that mean? What about Tali? Why would it matter if she were here to hear this?

Why was he overthinking this?

Scowling, he brought up his omnitool, and tapped out a message to Javik. Knowing him, he's probably not even wearing the thing. The prothean was rarely seen with the omnitool Shepard had issued him, even with the Commander nagging him about bringing it on missions. But alas; solving the power problem for the miniature thanix was the most spam-worthy thing in the galaxy, Javik was bound to notice the omni buzzing from wherever he hid it eventually.

Unless he's gone and thrown it out the airlock again...

Almost as soon as he thought it, an irate Javik stormed in through the doors. He tossed his omni to the floor, then stomped on it, glaring at Garrus. Nope, this time it's 'crushed to pieces'.

"What?" The prothean snapped.

"I solved the power problem." Garrus told him in a sing-song voice. Javik's features mellowed out to 'neutral' almost immediately; the mini-thanix was one topic of conversation he would tolerate. "It's all in the oscillation of the first, third, and fifth ring matrix; if we decrease output to the second, fourth, and sixth rings, it'll create a loop deadfall-burst effect that will accelerate the round faster, and increase energy efficiency. Add that together with a G-630 ion battery instead of the G-H20, and we should be good to go for shaping the osmium."

"I was under the impression that the previous battery could supply power for longer." the prothean's top set of eyes narrowed slightly.

"Yeah, they do, but the G-360's have a more power in a shorter amount of time. Don't have enough power, that round's not going to far enough to do any damage." Garrus rolled over on the couch to look at him more directly. "When it boils down to kill power, distance is everything."

"Do I even wanna know what you two are talking about?" James asked. "You've been putting something together last few weeks, I thought Ashley was kidding when she said 'nuke laser'."

"Oh, that's not a bad idea!" The look on the human's face was worth it. "Remind me, we should work on that next."

"I would rather face the end of this war with my life intact." Javik shook his head. "Foolish primitive plans are something I will avoid."

"Like the foolish primitive plan we've been working on the past few weeks? Tsk, shame on you Javik. It's an excellent plan, it's the best idea ever!" Garrus' mandibles flicked outwards in a grin. "And hey, if it blows our arms off when we fire it, just look at is as an opportunity to get a prosthetic arm with a built-in rocket launcher!"

"Dude, that's never going to happen." James told him.

"Common, Vega; you've seen what they can do with robotics these days!"

"I believe the Commander would rather you did not have ordnance attached to your arm; knowing you, you would eventually blow your leg own off next."

"You both need to by a sense of imagination."

"I agree with James and Javik; no rocket arms for Garrus." Tali poked her head in. "And no nuke lasers."

Garrus let out a forlorn sigh. "You guys just gotta suck the fun out of everything..."

"I am having second thoughts about this." Javik eyed the turian nervously. Yes, he was nervous; anyone in their right mind would be nervous.

After four being weeks in the making, the mini-thanix was finally complete, and ready for testing.

"Nonsense! You encouraged it, this monster is partially your fault, you're going to enjoy this test run whether you like it or not!" Garrus chirped. He was back in his armor at last, and walked with a spring in his step. An alien sun was shining, this particular world was a wasteland, he was back on his feet, and he had an insane gun to test out. Nothing was spoiling this turian's day, no-siree, nothing!

"What are you two blockheads doing?" Ashley called out from the ramp of the Normandy. All the crew needed some leg-stretch time while they re-oriented after a dogfight with Cerberus. To Garrus' pleasure, the Thanix had preformed same as she always had; with grace and destruction. "Shepard said not to cause a ruckus."

"What ruckus? We're not causing any ruckus!" Garrus held a hand over his heart in mock hurt, at the same time adjusting his grip on the mini-Thanix, which was nearly the length of his arm. "I'm surprised you'd even suggest such a thing!"

"You've got cocky turian grin #2 written all over your face, you're going to do something loud and stupid any minute now." Ashley deadpanned.

"Loud, certainly, but hardly stupid." Javik pointed out. "Failing to test this weapon now may result in catastrophe later."

"Exactly!" Garrus chirruped. "Now, for our first victim, let's try that spire over there..."

"Fine. But if he blows himself up, Javik, you get to drag him back to the Normandy." Ashley snorted, walking away with a toss of her head. Men these days...

"I still have reservations." Javik expressed as Garrus lined up his shot and began the charge cycle.

"Nonsense!" he said again, oblivious tot he fact that the prothean was backing away and putting up a biotic barrier around himself. "This is the best idea we've ever had!"

The weapon charged, the rings spun, and his right mandible flicked against cold metal. I love the smell of melted uranium in the morning! Not this was living! The spire of rock was about fifty meters away, and he banished any and all imaginings of himself becoming a smoking crater in the ground; Javik had shaped the osmium to perfection, though it had taken him a while, and he himself had done the final checks last night. In any other situation, with any other gun, he would have tested it on the Normandy's shooting range, but alas, a mini-Thanix it may be, but it was still a Thanix. No way was he going to melt the hull for science.

The weapon finished charging... and a sound like a million thunderclaps burst through his ears. The weapon kicked so hard, it sent him to the dirt, and the massive boom of the round's impact was lost to the temporary shock of falling down.

"HOLY HECK!" James yelled from the Normandy as he watch Garrus get knocked over. He nearly dropped the case he'd been carrying. Was the turian hurt?

Apparently not, or so the burst of laughter from Garrus seemed to hint at. Javik was at his side in an instant, and at fist the human though he was helping his compatriot up... only to watch as the prothean snatched the large weapon from the turian's hands, and proceed to line up a shot of his own. The weapon charged, fired, and preceded to knock Javik flat on his back as well.

"Ha! Yes, excellent!" he sounded the closest to 'elated' that James had ever heard him. I gotta try me some of that gun!

"Hey, quit hogg'n all the good stuff, you two! Let me try it!" he ran to join in.

"Keelah, what's going on out there?" Tali asked as she stepped out of the elevator, hand on her sidearm. "Are we under attack?"

"No. Just the boys lining up to get knocked on their backends." Ashley scowled at the gathering as Garrus once again took the laser gun and fired it, this time James and Javik waiting to try and keep him upright. "EDI, tell Shepard Garrus and Javik have lost their marbles. They dragged Vega into it, too."

Sadly, this turned out to be a poor idea, for soon all four men of the ground team were happily getting thrown into the dirt by the creation of two bored madmen.

Just a small tie-in to Out of Tricks. A little bit of backstory never hurt anyone, and this particular incident will be mentioned multiple times. And I do honestly beleive Javik would very much enjoy firing a miniature Thanix; I don't see who wouldn't.

Fare Thee Well!