Who: Shepard & Vakarian What: Discussing the Crucible and nudging Shepard for some downtime When: Recent Where: The Normandy Rating/Warnings: Low! Status: Complete!
Shepard had actually been spending more time on Earth than the Normandy lately, which was probably a good thing as for a while there she might have needed an intervention. It was too easy to separate herself from the Earth below. But if she did that she wouldn’t care as much about the people on the planet. There was also the factor of there being only so much preparation to do, leaving her alone with her thoughts a lot of the time which was counter-productive.
Maybe she should try speed dating.
She thought she heard activity and went to investigate it. “For once you’re not doing calibrations. 2016 really is the end times.”
Nope, no calibrations of the Normandy’s gun battery - his skills were a little more widespread than that, so thanks, Shepard. Garrus was was actually stationed in the engineer’s room and in the spot his quarian mate had once stood, manning the consoles and making sure the ship’s drive was properly updated without bugs. Tali had taught him a lot during their days among the stars. He’d never have the knowledge of starship technology like she did, but in her absence he was at the very least, decent.
And the only other soul on this ship that knew how the ol’ girl worked.
The image of a human man was gone. Replacing it was a full-blooded turian, with his towering height and sinewy physique made bulky by the presence of his armor. Instead of five digits there were three, talon-like, that punched across the keyboard. “I try to mix it up a little, catch the masses off guard. Here I thought you were doing something more healthy for your mental state, like taking a nap maybe?”
Garrus was still sexy. Turian or human, scars or no scars. Shepard punched him in the shoulder. “I napped earlier. Hugged my elmo doll and everything. How’s the Normandy holding up?” There was only so much automation the ship could do, and the shell that had housed EDI was empty. She didn’t know if that meant EDI was on earth somehow, someone who hadn’t yet dreamed. She hoped EDI never dreamed, and got to remain human.
Luckily the armor absorbed the impact, and that she wasn’t using her biotics. “Just doing routine maintenance - it’s not so bad since we’re not using her as much as we used to, but if we’re going to face a Reaper she needs to be beyond one hundred percent prepared.” Tip-top shape with no surprise kinks, enforced shields and guns that did their job: fire without a damn hiccup. “Girl’s already re-calibrated to pick up on those Crucible pieces.”
Garrus relished his time on the Normandy. It was a home away from home. The nostalgia it brought was bittersweet in many ways - the memorial wall didn’t help - but hours and hours he spent so engrossed in making sure the inner-workings were as polished as could be brought him a great degree of zen.
“Mathematically you can’t go past 100%, but then again, how many times did we do the impossible?” Shepard grinned at him. “Good work. I don’t know how we’re going to get that thing assembled. I might have to pay Tony Stark a visit. Maybe we can automate some of it.” It wasn’t like they had a large army of engineers at their disposal.
He snorted, the sound coming out with a more metallic zing thanks to the change in vocals. “We survived something as unstable as a suicide mission - I can work with percentages.” Legion had tried to tell him something along those lines before too, and Garrus enjoyed proving him wrong. Not like he always had the chance to baffle a sentient artificial being as it were.
But the talons ceased the motions across the keyboard and he turned to Shepard. “That could work. Otherwise we’ll need a damn miracle considering how much manpower and time we spent building that thing. And time’s sort of what I’m beginning to really worry about.”
Months now, the threat of Reapers loomed over them like a dense toxic fog. His dreams were on rerun episodes, sometimes morphing into nightmares stemming from the subconscious. They’d gone through a war that ravaged planets, and it stung him more than he ever liked to admit. He’d seen carnage here, but what they witnessed was in their sleep was a carnage and destruction like no other.
“We need to get the ball rolling now if there’s even a chance in hell of this working,” Shepard decided. She’d message Stark, maybe put out an open call. They at least needed to get some kind of orbital platform built. They’d have to hide it behind the moon, and she wondered how easily it would be to move the Citadel to the Sol system.
Jane put her hand on Garrus’s shoulder. “If we have to go out there with bows and arrows, we will.”
“What I wouldn’t give for the full crew, though,” Garrus sighed, a little frustrated - he didn’t doubt that the two of them could pool the resources and take the reigns considering this was their baggage, but having a couple more of ‘their people’ to lend a hand would give him a lot more confidence. Here, their existing resources were also very limited.
Pulling this off would really be a goddamn miracle, but she was right: they’d done the impossible before. “All hands on deck, then, with the biggest brains that can be spared? Or any brain. I don’t think we can afford to be picky.”
“Part of me is glad, because they deserve to not have to shoulder this. But we could use the help and there’s that selfish part of me that misses what we had.” Jane smiled, leaning against the bulkhead and folding her arms. “Any and all brains, hands and feet. We’ll pull another miracle out of our asses. I just know it.”
“I’d argue that no one deserves to shoulder any of this.” Them included. It’s not like they strolled into the OC originally with high hopes of being the frontrunners in stopping an incoming alien invasion, but here they were, on a spaceship literally of their dreams - one of them had become an alien, and the other a biotically charged human who’d been dead for two years and resurrected by the means of actual science.
Garrus also didn’t want her to take the weight of the world - and even the galaxy - on her shoulders. Things didn’t have to end the same way, with her outcome still in the air.
His arm went around her, turian fingers tapping against her arm. “You up for a drink? I think my non-human insides can take some of the other stuff we have in stash around here.”
“A drink or two sounds great,” she agreed. The Normandy could carry on without them for a few hour. “I think we’re positioned for a great view of the South Pacific out the starboard lounge.”
“You need some downtime as it is,” Garrus urged, mandibles flaring in what was a recognizable smile - at least to those who were used to him being like this, otherwise he was just plain unsettling. “Before all this hits the fan, we’ll have to plan the sequel to our shore leave. Probably won’t be as eventful without your clone running amuck messing things up.” Hijacking the ship, almost getting rid of the space hamster. “But it’ll be a good time to show off your legendary dance moves.”
It did them well once, he hadn’t a doubt it’d do them well again. Mostly for her.