Who: Garrus Vakarian & Caleb Rivers What: Showing off the Normandy When: Recentish Where: SPACE Rating/Warnings: Low~ Status: Complete!
Best way to rip the metaphorical bandaid of the bullshit reality of this place was to give Caleb the experience of a lifetime - which meant boarding a small quasi-spaceship like the Kodiak and launching off out of the atmosphere and into the celestial darkness that was outer space. Where, in the distance, the Normandy floated in its stealth mode - it made it undetectable from radars. Not like they needed something like NASA to discover a high-tech space vessel, as the Normandy was clearly ahead of its years.
“Welcome to my wedding venue,” Garrus introduced, dressed in casual slacks and a somewhat crumpled buttoned up shirt (he’d been working on a couple of engineering type things lately), with hands tucked into his pocket. They’d taken the elevator up to CIC - it’s where the main stuff was. The chip’s bridge, the pilot’s chair (since Joker hadn’t made an appearance, it remained empty), and the Galaxy map. Things he didn’t really mess with anyway - his domain was the gun battery, where he had the habit of ignoring anyone who came in there.
It hadn’t taken long for them to get here - maybe an hour, tops, considering how the technology that composed these things was much, much more advanced than what this century even had. “A friend’s technically the commander of it, but since we’re running with a skeleton crew - me and her - I’ve taken over tech maintenance, and I’ve always handled the guns.”
Caleb wasn’t sure what to make of all the dream talk on the network. He honestly thought everyone was just way too into their dreams. And then when Garrus had informed him he was getting married in space? Well Caleb had just written that off, as a space themed wedding or something. He had never been to a wedding before, but he was pretty sure that themed weddings were a thing. However, when Garrus had brought him on a small ship and then shot them into space then they were on a larger space ship? Yeah there no denying the wedding was literally going to be in space.
Caleb looked around the CIC eyes wide. There was a lot to take in. Caleb knew a lot about computers and technology in general, but this technology was clearly ahead of their time. “What? How?” He couldn’t seem to form full sentences for a moment, but eventually gained his composure. “So when you said you were getting married on a spaceship, you weren’t kidding,” he was still in shock but his tone was amused, he was amused. “How do you know how to take care of this thing?” he questioned since Garrus had mentioned being in charge of tech maintenance, and of course Caleb was interested in that.
It was a lot to take in. Sending people into space was a process, a long-winded project that cost millions upon millions, yet they were able to hop into the Kodiak and shoot off like it was nothing. Perhaps the times would catch up to how his dreams were - science would eventually explore faster ways of transportation, other signs of life, even make contact with them.
It’d be awhile for that to happen, though Garrus wished it’d be in his lifetime.
“Dreams,” he explained, frosty blue eyes watching him with amusement. “Mostly dreams. I knew some basic tech stuff from being on my own for so long - and when you’re out there handling organized crime, you learn real quick that a lot of their intel is digital nowadays. You know that more than anyone. Dreaming of another life expanded on that, you could say.” And, yes, that came along with the ability to efficiently calibrate practically everything, with skills that bested Legion himself. In a nutshell, Vakarian knew his shit.
He took Caleb around this level first - the cockpit, the view of the stars, the blue earth with wisps of white. Things binged and buzzed, beeped with information, everything on and active. Then past the Galaxy Map they went, so they could climb to the elevator. “We’ve got an entire medical room here, too. Computers of all kinds linked together in its own network. You could claim this dream thing is bullshit, but this is exactly where something like this came from.”
Of course Caleb knew that more than anyone. He had been the one getting intel for a group of criminals. Laundering VIN numbers from the DMV and money from corporations, hacking into banks to get blue prints and shut of security cameras, you name it Caleb had probably done it. He was always behind the scenes though, occasionally needed on site during heists. He had never hurt anyone though, in fact when he witnessed the group he was working for murder innocent people he had left and been on the run since. Even across the country he didn’t feel totally safe from them, but he did feel a little better with Garrus around.
However, Caleb wasn’t focussing on all that right now. “Don’t tell me you buy into this dream bullshit too?” not having dreamt himself of course Caleb was skeptical about it all. It was proving to be more and more difficult to not believe though, especially when he was on a fucking spaceship that looked like it was from the future.
“So are you going to show me how these computers work or do I get to figure it out for myself?” a computer was still a computer right? No matter how advanced the technology was. Of course Caleb wanted to test it out for himself.
“I’ve been here for over a year, Caleb,” Garrus softly snorted with a shake of his head. So, yes, he did buy into the dream bullshit and the Normandy, with it steely reinforced walls as it hovered stealthily in space was proof of that. Things like this didn’t exist yet, but he supposed if someone was suspicious enough they could come up with all sorts of government conspiracies about how the Big Guys were hiding advance technology such as this for the public. Which would be easier to believe: dreams of an alternate reality bleeding over and making mundane life particularly difficult, or conspiracies of the government known to throw shade and bury secrets six feet under ground? “It’s not a load of bullshit, but denial’s a natural reaction. Maybe you’re the crazy one, for not believing us.”
The level they stopped at had the mess hall, crew quarters, the medbay, gun battery and Liara’s headquarters - which was the home for a good bit of that fancy computer network. The room of the Shadow Broker, listening into galactic chatter and gleaning dirty intel for use in their war. “The stuff is in that room.” A hand motioned over. “But it’s a sensitive area. My friend hasn’t really stepped foot in there. Memories of someone she loved once upon a dream, and all that.”
Caleb hadn’t actually come up with any conspiracy or alternative theories as to why the spaceship existed or why he was in one. He was just kind of going with it. What else could he really do? Thinking about it too much would just hurt his head and there wasn’t really much of an explanation for it. “Yeah I’m the crazy one,” he said it sarcastically although he was beginning to think that maybe he was the crazy one.
“So we can’t go in there because of your friends dream memories?” okay that definitely sounded crazy and Caleb wasn’t just imagining that. Maybe it was time to change the subject away from dreams and insanity and even away from technology. “Where exactly on this thing are you getting married?” It was huge after all.
Alright, admittedly it sounded a bit funny when you repeated it back out loud but it was true - Shepard was sensitive when it came to Liara, probably more so considering the recent heartbreak. It wasn’t territory he dared to cross unless it was an emergency. Garrus rolled his eyes and led him to the fridge stocked with all sorts of things, and while one of the levels had a recreational room with a bar, beer was still stocked her for him. Closer to the gun battery, anyway.
“We’re clearing out the cargo area and beautifying it, or something,” he chuckled and popped the bottle caps off, the beer hissing. None of his Guiness stuff; he selected something neutral, like Heineken. If Caleb was old enough to rob people blind by a couple strokes of the keyboard and run for his life, then he was old enough to drink a goddamn beer. “Some levels will be restricted. Some civilians don’t need to see every corner of the ship - they’d ask too many questions and we’d have to pull more stories out of our ass to cover it. My fiance’s a bit of a southern belle - most food will probably be comfort food.”
Maybe Caleb needed to start repeating things back to Garrus and the rest of the dream freaks the way he heard them. Then they might just get how funny they sounded. Because to Caleb it all sounded completely ridiculous and insane. Although this little trip to Garrus’ spaceship was starting to get Caleb to come around.
Caleb didn’t hesitate to accept the beer, taking a refreshing swig from the bottle. He was actually of legal drinking age now, but that had never stopped him before. He had fake IDs since he was thirteen years old. Still had some though he no longer needed them for drinking purposes, it was more to hide his identity.
“So should I feel special that I’m getting the grand tour? Or are some areas still restricted for me? Other than the dream memory room,” because he didn’t know how else to describe it. “Southern bell?” he raised an eyebrow at that. Not exactly the type he would picture Garrus with. Caleb was imagining some ditzy girl in one of those big hooped dresses or whatever they were called. “So a Southern bell and a what are you now? Astronaut? What happened to the bounty hunter I’ve grown so fond of,” he joked with another sip of his beer.
An astronaut, hah. Another roll of his eyes (he had a feeling he’d be doing that - Caleb was a bit of a snot, that clearly never changed), and he leaned against the edge of the counter. Beer hadn’t been sipped on yet - he slowly twirled the bottle in his fingers, like he was interested in dissecting the label with his eyes. “Retired, actually,” he began. Dark brows flared, edge of his mouth tilted into a ghost of a smirk. “Apparently I became more infamous than I’d like, and it bit me in the ass, but it’s over.”
He didn’t know if Caleb had gotten wind of the ‘Let’s Kill Garrus Fest 2015’ that occurred earlier this year, but it was flattering. Somewhat. Probably more so if they didn’t get a wild hair up their ass and kidnapped Cindy, kept her hostage and, oh, tortured her. It’d taken a toll, she sought help - she was better now, but he didn’t think he could ever shake off the memory. Hopefully next Valentine’s Day would be less angst-filled.
“She runs a shoe store, though,” he continued. All of it undercover work, of course, but the shithead he was so fond of didn’t need to know the knitty-gritty details. “I do some paper-pushing government work. Pays the bills.” Undercover work too, to keep outside politics from infesting the core of Orange County. “You’re going to give me crap about all this but give it a couple weeks, you’ll be sending a text needing me to bring you a change of pants from shitting yourself.”
Caleb hadn’t heard about the kill Garrus fest. That was around the time he was trying to get away from Allentown. “Never thought you’d retire,” that was news to him and it was a little shocking. “Is that how you met? At her shoe store? Did you need a new pair of heels?” he teased again. He was sure selling shoes was a great business, but Caleb himself never spent any time in one, nor did he have the desire to.
“Wait, you’re a paper-pusher now? No wonder you need to come up to this spaceship.” Not that Caleb could really talk anymore. He wasn’t exactly a paper pusher but… “Actually I got a legitimate job. You’d be proud,” he nodded his head in agreement with himself before taking another sip of his beer.
If beer wasn’t so sacred to him, he’d chuck the bottle at Caleb’s head. The night was still young; it could wait until he drank it all and when it came to him, that wouldn’t take him long. “We met on the network,” he clarified. “I added some modifications to -” Garrus had to bite his tongue. “To one of her cars, and went from there.” Well, it was a pumpkin carriage, an iconic item from her fairytale world that had now been converted to a vessel of war. It was impressive, but that’d be a story for another time.
But anyway, back to Caleb. It’d been awhile since they’ve crossed paths, and he looked impressed with his statement. “They do grow up fast, don’t they? Who the hell in their right mind would hire you anyway without a proper background check? Or did you actually cover your tracks there too?”
“You’re a mechanic now too?” Seriously what the hell had Caleb missed. Garrus seemed to have like a million different jobs now. Okay maybe not that many but still. “How do you have time for them all?” He could barely handle the one job, but that was mostly because he hated being stuck in an office. Caleb was used to being able to work whenever and wherever he wanted, the whole office environment was taking some adjusting.
“Do you even have to ask?” Caleb asked with another sip of beer. Of course he had covered his tracks. It was almost impossible to find any information on Caleb past the age of sixteen. “Tony Stark. I sort of hacked into their system and he caught me. Their security is intense,” he commented with another swig from the beer bottle. “Somehow that ended with me getting a job there.”
Tony Stark. The name was familiar; you’d have to live under a rock to not recognize, and dare he even question why Stark wanted a jailbait hacker with a questionable history? Not that Garrus wasn’t happy with him - he was out of the mess he’d gotten himself into, and mostly safe - but he found it kinda strange. “Maybe you fucking with his system was equivalent to a job interview? Either way, congratulations on making money the legal way - less trouble will bite you in the ass this way.”
“Maybe,” Caleb shrugged finished off his beer. “I wasn’t sure if it was a trap or something, but it’s been good so far. Minus the whole being in an office part.” But Caleb was happy with the job. He was getting the life he always wanted. Well he still had no family, but now that he was an adult he no longer cared about that. Now he just wanted to live his life without having to worry about being arrested. Of course he still had to look over his shoulder constantly, but hopefully that paranoia would dissipate at some point.
“Trust me, you’ll start liking the normalcy of having an office soon enough,” Garrus laughed, reaching over to give Caleb the friendliest (which meant it was a bit rough, in a good humored way) pat on the back, and with beers in tow he pushed him back towards the elevator. “It’ll keep you out of most trouble anyway - but let me show you our recreational room. It’s got its own bar and poker table, with a full view of space. Maybe when you’re jaded like the rest of us, I’ll talk to Shepard about you messing with our computers for scientific purposes.”